Long Road From Here to There
by Diary
Summary: "You think I've never seen a man in love, Dr Oliver? Do honestly believe you're so different from all men about to propose, all the women about to tell a man or their family they're having a baby, and all the people who've finally decided, to hell with everything, I love this person too much to not tell them that I've seen over the years?" Complete.


Disclaimer: I do not own As the World Turns.

* * *

"Do you need to talk to Mia," Mrs Jainukul inquires as Reid calls to cancel his usual order at the nearby Chinese place, which, interestingly, a Thai family owns enough.

"No," he answers.

"Are you sure? I can write her a note for school and drive her over."

"Yeah, everything's fine," he assures her. "I just need some adult time."

"Be safe," she answers. "Remember: You're not allowed to torture my daughter if you bring home anyone I don't approve of."

He can't help but laugh at that. "Got it. I'll talk you soon, Mrs Jainukul."

Once they hang up, he sighs and puts the picture he's been looking at since he got home into his bag.

His patient, only eighteen, constantly talked about being a dad. He wasn't even seriously involved with anyone, but he was determined, he was going to be a dad once he got his bookshop up and running. He was aghast at Reid's disdain for Shakespeare.

The tumours weren't caught in time. If they had been, Reid could have saved him. As it was, Reid could only offer a slim possibility of him getting a year or two.

His patient died determined some breakthrough or miracle would happen in that year or two and he'd get his bookstore and kid. 'I'm going to have a daughter,' he'd said, once.

After checking his condoms and beeper, Reid heads out.

There's a genetic prediction to alcoholism in his family. He doesn't let that stop him from having the occasional beer, but he never drinks when something like this happens. It's asking for trouble.

Unfortunately, yoga doesn't do much to help.

That leaves sex.

…

He winds up in a cowboy bar.

Normally, he'd leave once he got a look at where he'd ended up –what are the chances of finding someone unmarried in a place like this?- but his eyes are drawn to a man riding a mechanical bull. He orders a coke with lime and watches as the man, young, handsome, blond, happily rides the death trap, his smile the type that always manages to draw Reid in.

Eventually, another idiot intent on getting himself killed forcibly insists on a turn.

The man ends up near Reid. "A Roy Rogers, please," he says, glancing over at Reid.

When the drink arrives, he seems to make a decision and moves over. "Hi," he says, tentatively. "I know it's probably none of my business, but you look like you had a bad day."

"Neurosurgeon," he answers, getting a close look at the man's left ring finger. There's no ring or tan line. That doesn't necessarily mean anything, but it's a start. "Things didn't go as well as I hoped with a patient."

"A brain surgeon? Wow."

Before Reid can answer, the man seems to realise exactly how pathetically and unrealistically wide-eyed he just came across as and says, "Uh, I'm from a small town in Illinois; aside from a paediatrician, we don't have anything but GPs. The closest nephrologist is three towns away. We did have a cardiologist, but he left a few years ago."

"Country boy," Reid comments, remembering Christopher Hughes, a classmate of his, was from Illinois. He went by Chris, and Reid often called him Doogie. "Suddenly, it all makes sense. What are you doing out of Podunk?"

That earns him a mildly irritated look, but the man shrugs. "I run a charitable foundation. We mainly help sick kids, but sometimes we do LGBT causes, too. A family friend insisted I meet with a high school near here. There's a severely disabled girl who wants to attend but needs accommodations they just can't afford to give her."

"Admirable," he comments. "Are you married?"

That causes laughter. "If I were, I doubt Texas would recognise it. Then again, my state isn't any better. What about you?"

That's enough for Reid.

"No, I'm not seeing anyone," he answers. "And I don't do small talk. I think you're hot, and I think you think I'm hot. I won't be staying for breakfast. Do you want to take me home?"

There's a moment of hesitation, but then, the man answers, "Just a warning: I'm not very experienced."

"Why would I care?"

For a second, it looks like his companion might actually answer. Instead, he shakes his head. "Sure. What's the plan?"

…

Please, he thinks, as he sets his beeper down on a table near the bed, don't go off.

The hotel is upscale. The car he followed here was a luxury rental. He supposes he should be less surprised than he is. The exceedingly rich aren't limited to big cities; small Illinois towns are bound to hold them occasionally.

Courtesy of the business cards sitting on the table, he knows the man's name is Luke Snyder.

"Please, tell me you kiss," Luke says, already sounding half-resigned.

Reid feels a pang of sympathy, recalling some of his less-than-rewarding attempts at picking people up. He's been accused of being insensitive, but he has little use for the ones who refuse to do certain things, not out genuine disinterest but as if not doing so will erase the fact they're gay and having sex with a man.

"Yeah," he says, reaching over to pull Luke over by his belt loops, "I do."

…

Once the clothes come off, he discovers Luke is largely passive.

That works for Reid, and he takes his time exploring Luke's body, finding all the sensitive spots, marks, and everything else of interest.

He pauses when he comes across a scar on his stomach. Transplant, kidney, his mind automatically supplies. The Roy Rogers and comment about the lack of nearby nephrologists suddenly have a deeper meaning.

It's a few years old, which is just what he doesn't need, being confronted with someone who faced serious medical complications much too young. Luke is hopefully out of his teens; he can't be older than his young-to-mid-twenties.

Putting aside those thoughts, he continues examining the scar, which is well, if darkly, healed. His fingers itch to touch. "Is this painful to the touch," he inquires, gesturing to it.

Luke lifts his head, his eyes dark with arousal. When he sees what Reid's referring to, he tenses. "Probably not," he mutters. "I don't feel anything when I touch it. The gloves my doctor wears are itchy against it, but otherwise- I don't think so."

"Tell me if it hurts," Reid says. Carefully, he starts to trace it, taking in the subtleties, only to start to withdraw when Luke shivers, his body tensing even more.

"No," Luke says, grabbing his wrist. "It doesn't hurt. It's- sensitive, but you aren't hurting me."

"Tell me if it starts to hurt," he reiterates, settling his fingers back on it. By the time he's fully traced it, Luke is harder than ever and leaking precome. That's encouragement enough to bring his mouth and tongue down.

When he's done, Luke is practically wiggling, but Reid isn't through exploring.

…

In the morning, he wakes up with his hand resting on the transplant scar.

It's not the only one he found. There are surgical scars on Luke's back and regular ones back of his legs, along with a small, crooked scar on the bottom of his left foot. That's the only one he'd volunteered information about. His dad has a farm, he'd informed Reid, and someone had left a nail out in the barn. He hadn't seen it and stepped on it when he was about nine or ten. His pony had refused to let him leave as one of the older horses had gone to fetch an adult.

Stretching, Reid slips out of bed, feeling significantly better.

Luke shifts but doesn't wake, a soft smile on his face.

As Reid's getting dressed, he pauses when he sees Luke's wallet. He wishes Luke's driver's license was out in the open along with the business cards.

You'll never see him, again, he tells himself as he leaves, making sure the door's shut firmly behind him.

…

He goes home, has breakfast, and showers.

When he gets to the clinic, he finds one of his patients, who isn't supposed to be here for another three days, talking to his secretary. "Mr Wheatley," he says, as his assistant pushes a pen off the desk and disappears underneath. "Is there a problem?"

Brian Wheatley, age 55, in good health aside from the seizures he suddenly developed three months ago. Normally, he isn't the sort of patient Reid accepts, but a favour was called in. One of Brian's ex-wives, probably not the one with the grandson, is the sister of Dr Alexander O'Johnson, a podiatrist and ex-boyfriend of Reid's.

"Dr Oliver," Brian says, "I was seeing if there was any way I could reschedule. My ex-wife's grandson is visiting; he'll be here until Sunday."

"Let me do a check-up, make sure you're going to be alright," he says.

As they go in the office, Brian says, "I apologise for the short notice. Originally, he was supposed to come next week, but circumstances at home necessitated a change."

"These things happen," Reid answers, neutrally.

Patients, he's learned to grudgingly accept, are often not out for their own best interests. They put things off, do things against his orders, and often have complicated family matters. Even worse, when he points out how stupid they are or otherwise makes his displeasure explicit, his career is what's put in danger.

So far, Brian has proven to be one of the better ones. He follows orders, trusts Reid's judgement on matters of treatment, and no family or friends has ever come with him.

Doogie used to talk about how important respecting the support team is. Reid personally thought that, if Doogie were ever dreadfully sick, Dr and Mrs Hughes would be the very last people to know.

Besides, it's not necessarily that he doesn't respect them. He understands most people have other people they're close to. They care deeply about those people and vice versa. The annoying family and friends he has to deal with want his patients to get better as much as he does, and they probably worry more than he does.

Most of them aren't doctors, however, and because he isn't a warm, cuddly person, they distrust him and often urge the patient not to cooperate fully, which, aside from making his job harder than it should be, puts the patient at sometimes-fatal risk.

"Does he know about the seizures?"

"No," Brian answers as Reid begins the check-up. "Lucinda, his grandmother, would kill me."

"She doesn't know, either?"

"No," Brian answers.

"Well," Reid says, "everything looks good. Keep taking your medication, and call immediately if you feel nauseous, dizzy, or anything triggers your spidey-sense."

"I will."

"The earliest I can fit you in is next Tuesday at 1:24 in the afternoon. Any problems with that?"

"No, that would be good, thank you."

…

When he gets off work, he catches himself considering going back to the cowboy bar.

"No," he orders himself, firmly. "If you're that pathetic, default to Google, and then, get over it."

He never tells one-night stands his name precisely so that, hopefully, they can't Google or otherwise utilise the internet to find out about him. However, by his reasoning, if Luke Snyder doesn't want one-night stands doing amateur internet investigation, he should learn not to keep business cards lying out in the open.

"Why are you still thinking about him?"

He can't come up with a satisfactory answer.

It was good sex for him, and he doubts Luke was left with any complaints.

Aside from the minimum amount of chitchat required and the story about the barn nail, they hadn't even really talked. Not enough to feel a connection, that's for sure.

"Screw it," he declares, opening his laptop. "Wallets are private; the internet is for everybody."

The first results are about the foundation. It was started a little over a year ago. There's several pictures of Luke meeting with people for different projects the foundation has undertook and several clips from a local news station of him giving an interview about housing discrimination.

In it, he held hands with his boyfriend, a black-haired, blue-eyed man by the name of Noah Mayer. A landlord rejected them as tenants due to their relationship. Luke's mother, Lily Snyder, talked about how bad she felt for initially having trouble accepting her son's sexual orientation.

Reid wonders if the boyfriend is still in the picture.

It's not his concern. He tries not to sleep with attached people, but doesn't beat himself up if he ends up finding out one of them was. That's on them. He's not the one who broke promises of fidelity or who intentionally put someone he had a duty to be extra-careful in protecting at risk by sleeping around.

A little more digging yields many disturbing results on Oakdale, Illinois, which, if the reports can be trusted, seems to be the town straight out of a horror movie but little on Luke. Noah Mayer's dad, a Colonel, was charged with several counts of murder and attempted murder, but the names of his victims are absent.

He hopes Luke wasn't one of the people the colonel tried to kill.

"Okay, Oliver," he says, "get it out of your system, now. You have work to do. Patients to heal. A secretary you can hopefully manage not to terrorise for another month or two."

His assistants never last. He wishes they'd take a cue from the nurses and other people who have to deal with him and just call him an asshole, insult his sexual potency, and possibly his taste in ties. If they did that and were good at their job, he suspects both he and they would be perfectly content with their working relationship.

Closing the browser, he opens his notes and starts going over them.

…

When Brian's treatment is completed, he tells Reid, "Thank you, Dr Oliver. You don't know how much this means."

"No need to get mushy," Reid says, handing him a script. "Here's a referral to a colleague of mine. Get monthly check-ups for the first year. She'll call me if there's a problem. And if you happen to tell your ex-wife with the grandson about this, don't let her kill you."

"I think you'd like her," Brian comments. "You remind me of her in many ways."

"I'm not sure if I should be disturbed or not by that," he comments.

"She runs several businesses, and you run a clinic," Brian explains. "You're both extremely dedicated."

"From what I've gathered, it's the same with you."

Brian shrugs. "Is running a clinic as far as you want to go?"

The question makes him uncomfortable.

Running a clinic is a far as he can realistically see himself going. It's never been a question of how many medical facilities he can claim to own; doctors only interested in that would be better off as proprietors. What he's wanted since boyhood is exciting cases and the ability to help people.

"If I had the money and the freedom, I'd design the best neurological facility in the country," he answers. "Then, I'd work on making it the best in the world. Unfortunately, however, no matter how great my skill, that sort of money never comes with the sort of freedom I'd require. Take care of yourself, Mr Wheatley."

"You too, Dr Oliver," Brian answers as he offers his hand.

…

A year later, he finds himself meeting with Lucinda Walsh, one of Brian Wheatley's ex-wives.

"Dr Oliver, thank you for meeting me," she says, shaking his hand. "My grandson should be here shortly. I assure you we won't take much of your time."

"I'm still not sure why you're even here."

"Brian's extremely grateful for the treatment you provided. While I'm still plotting out his assassination, I'm grateful to you, as well," she answers. "It's a matter of principle, really."

"Okay," he says, not sure if he likes her or not. "I have my doubts you scheduled an appointment just to thank me."

"I didn't," she agrees. "Brian told me you had ambitions of running a top-notch neurological facility. I can make that a reality for you."

"Yeah, I doubt it," he answers. "From what I've heard and seen, it's probably a bad idea to insult you, but I'd just end a puppet for you. Not my ambition."

"It wouldn't be my money," she answers, calmly. "I should have been clearer in my wording: I know a young man who can make that a reality for you. My grandson is a philanthropist. He runs a charitable foundation, which is why he made the trip with me."

Before she can continue, there's a knock on the door.

"That should be him," she answers, getting up to answer the door.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Grandmother," Luke Snyder says, walking into the room.

Reid's agnostic, but during times such as these, he can't discount the possibility there's a sadistic higher being out there.

"Jade's insane, but don't worry," he says, taking off his coat and still looking at his grandmother. "Ethan's on babysitting duty."

"It's not a problem, darling," she answers, kissing his cheek. "Come meet the man who helped Brian."

"We are still going with the whole inflicting a painful death on him for not telling us he was even sick plan, aren't we?"

"Naturally, my boy," she says, affectionately. "Luke," she says, looking at Reid, "this is Dr Reid Oliver."

Luke looks over, and Reid sees the recognition in his eyes. "Oh," he says. "Uh, you're the infamous Dr Oliver. Thank you for what you did for Brian." He offers his hand.

"Mister Snyder," he says, shaking it.

"Sit down, darling," Lucinda says. "I was just about to tell Dr Oliver about your willingness to contribute to the building of a neurological facility. You need to assure him you won't be making decisions on how it's run."

"I don't know the first thing about neurology," Luke comments. "Brian's the reason I'm here. He believes you'd be able to save a lot of lives, and in doing so, bring a large amount of positive publicity to the foundation. As long as you don't cause a big scandal, I don't care how you handle your patients."

Reid doubts that.

He'll admit he doesn't have much to base that on, but everything he does know tells him that Luke is an overly compassionate person. Such people care about how patients, nurses, and assistants are treated.

"I'll let the two of you discuss this privately while I visit the ladies' room," Lucinda says, kissing Luke on the forehead.

Once she's gone, Luke sighs and briefly hides his face. "Uh, right. You're actually the first one-night stand I ever had, and I thought it went well. Now, I know why I should never do something like that again. But anyways, could you just, not let that effect your decision? Brian- he's been through a lot, and you were able to help him through some of it. I just want to repay you for that. He's an important person in my grandmother's life and mine."

"Why are you and your grandmother so homicidal about the fact he didn't tell you what was going on?"

Sighing, Luke leans back. "I didn't like him for a long time; I didn't trust him. Things got bad between us, and unfortunately, my grandmother was caught right in the middle of it all. However, we all came out of it better people, and I consider him family. I wish he felt the same way, but- Well, it doesn't matter."

Reid's uncomfortable at how easily such personal information is being given. He tries to focus on something else and remembers the way Brian looked when he talked about Lucinda; he doesn't know how Brian feels about Luke, but he knows Brian loves her.

"So, what exactly is the offer, Mister Snyder? Give it to me straight and dirty."

That causes a blush, but Luke simply clears his throat and reaches over for his grandmother's briefcase, withdrawing some papers and handing them over. "It might be better for you to read this, and then, have us answer any questions."

…

That night, Reid digs out the picture of Trayon Martin, the patient he lost a year ago.

Trayon Martin had a friend named Sina Roberts. Nineteen, underweight, and might have been in love with Trayon. A month ago, she delivered a six-pound girl. Traylee Roberts-Martin.

There's a knock on the door.

Getting up, he answers it. "And the Taiwan doll appears," he comments.

Mia sticks her tongue out. "I'm Thai-American," she retorts, handing his food over. "And that's, like, really weak, Dr Jackass. Didn't you move past that when I was five?"

"Four, actually," he says, handing her the money. "Sorry, I'm off my game tonight. You have time to stay?"

"Do you have my toothpaste?"

"Yeah," he answers.

Mia loves a certain flavour of toothpaste her mother refuses to buy. Reid routinely buys it, resulting in Mia often brushing her teeth when she comes over; she even has her own toothbrush and floss in his bathroom, a fact he'll never let anyone know.

"Sure," she says. "I'll call Mama real quick."

Once she's settled in, he says, "I might be moving."

She sets her soda down. "Are you being arrested for something?"

"No," he answers, exasperated. "Why is that where your mind automatically goes to?"

"Because, I've had repeated exposure to you since I was two?"

"Fair point," he acknowledges. "No," he continues. "There's this organisation, the Luke Snyder Foundation, that's offered to help me build a state-of-the-art neurological facility and let me run it. One of the few things they refuse to budge on is where it'll be built. They want it done in Oakdale, Illinois."

"Never heard of it."

"Most people haven't, and from the research I've done, that's something said people should be grateful for."

She laughs, and then, bites her lip as she thinks. "So, are you going?"

"I've been considering it."

"Don't tell me, me, Mama, and Jason are part of the reason you're considering not going."

"The food and the fact I've managed to train most of you is."

She grins. "I'd miss you- I mean, I'm so kicking butt on the debate team thanks to all the times I've had to deal with you, but you know, I'm an okay kid. I have friends, I make As and Bs, and I don't argue with Mama and Dad near as much as some kids do. Mama'd miss you, too, but she'd be fine. Do you think you'd like running this neuro facility?"

"I think I should try to see; if it doesn't work out, I can find work anywhere."

"I'll tell Mama to make you a going-away order. Then, maybe with the money that brings, I can get that new X-Box."

"Or she'll refuse to charge me, thus leaving your family with even less money than before."

Her tongue, again, presents itself. Then, suddenly, he finds a little girl wrapped around him. "I know," the muffled voice says, "you don't do hugs. But I do."

Sighing, he carefully returns the hug. "I'll miss torturing you, kid," he says, kissing her head.

…

"Bob, this is Dr Reid Oliver," Luke says, two weeks later. "Dr Oliver, this is Dr Bob Hughes, the chief of staff at Memorial."

Shaking his hand, Reid asks, "When can I start my rounds?"

"Dr Oliver, you just got off a long flight," Luke protests.

"Thank you for telling me what I already know, Mister Snyder. I know my limits, and I haven't been working for three days."

"Right," Luke says to Bob. "This one's a workaholic."

"This one is a genius," Reid interjects. "A genius with no patience for so-called pleasantries."

"At Memorial, we try strive to create an environment of trust and camaraderie, for the sake of both our patients and our doctors," Bob informs him.

"I'm here until I can take over the neuro facility," he answers, remembering how screwed up Doogie could be. As cliché as it to blame the parents, Doogie never did anything to dissuade him of the impression they were part of the reason he had so many problems he refused to appropriately deal with. "As long as everyone does what I need them to do when it comes to patients, I'll do the same for them. I don't give a damn if my colleagues are happy or not, and as long as the patients leave healthy, they can find their own happiness in beyond the hospital walls."

"Luke," Bob says, "I trust your judgement. Dr Oliver, you can start whenever you're ready. My wife and I were wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner sometime soon."

"Maybe sometime," Luke says, stepping on his foot before he can respond, "but sorry, not tonight. I've already promised him chili and cornbread from Al's. We're about to head over. Would you like for me to get a to-go order for Kim and drop it off at the station?"

"You were serious about that," he asks, surprised.

At Luke's warning look, he says, "What? I'm not objecting. It's just, when most people bribe me with the promise of food, the promise usually doesn't come through."

"Luke's a man of his word," Bob says, smiling slightly. "And with his younger family members, he knows better than to offer a bribe he can't or won't fulfil. Dr Oliver," he says, offering his hand.

After Reid shakes it, Bob clasps Luke's shoulder. "Good luck; it seems like you and I are both going to have our hands full."

"I already despise it here," he says once Bob has walked away.

"Really," Luke says, "gee, I hadn't guessed that by the way you kept making disparaging remarks on the plane, even though you've never actually been here before and you haven't actually seen anything of it, yet. Or by the way you were completely disrespectful to Bob," he adds, sharply.

"I can read. I have internet access. This place sounds like something out of a horror movie. And you knew when we signed the contract that I wasn't the warm and fuzzy guy."

Luke sighs and nods for him to follow. "Don't worry, Dr Oliver. Soon enough, you'll have your very own neuro facility to play in, and then, I can work on undoing the damage you've done to my reputation for bringing you here."

"I notice you aren't denying my observation."

"Oakdale," Luke says, thoughtfully, "is colourful. And sometimes, it's more behind the times than I'd like, I'll admit. Nevertheless, it's where I grew up, where my baby siblings, cousins, and nieces and nephews are growing up, and where most of my family is. It has its charms, and even if you can't see that, I'd appreciate it if you'd show common human decency to its residents."

"Such as?"

"Well, it has its charms for non-misanthropes," Luke answers, glaring.

"I'm not a misanthrope," he protests.

"No, of course not," Luke agrees. "You just give the impression of hating people and having no patience for anyone not under generalised anaesthesia."

"Granted, I have some misanthropic tendencies," he says. "But I don't hate people. I just don't believe in forming close bonds. I save lives. I improve lives. I'll never do anything to jeopardise my ability to do that."

"And relationships would jeopardise that?"

Reid thinks of the Jainukul family. "Professional relationships, no. Friendships, boyfriends, all of the other types that involve touchy-feely emotions, yes, they could."

Luke pauses and stops, reaching out to stop Reid. "Okay, look. Sorry to bring this up, but: I don't know if you're out or not, but what I said about not causing a scandal- I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant," Reid tells him. "I've known that I'm gay since I was nine, and while I don't feel it's important to inform others sans nothing, I've never hidden it. If I decided I wanted a boyfriend, I'd get one, and I'd still run the facility."

"Good," Luke says, looking relieved, though still irritated.

They continue walking, and Reid says, "Are you still with that man you did an interview with on housing discrimination?"

"How did- Oh, right, of course, you were smart and did your research," Luke says as they get to a small diner.

He stays quiet.

"No," Luke answers as they sit down. "Noah and I had actually broken up right before I went to Texas. He left for L.A. recently. He's insanely talented at filmmaking and directing."

A server comes over.

After they've ordered, Luke says, "I know it's not my place, but I don't see how anyone could live like you do."

"Doubtless, there are people who think the same of you."

"Fair enough," Luke says with a shrug. "It's your life, and not my place. So, are you going to just live at the Lakeview, or would you like some help in finding something else?"

"Probably the Lakeview," he answers as their food comes.

…

It's been two days, and Reid already hates Oakdale.

"Dr Oliver," one of the doctors, who seems to spend more time at the animal shelter than she does at the hospital, says, "you're supposed to brief me before you talk to my patient."

"And which patient is that, Dr Doolittle?"

"Ellie Miller," she answers, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, right, epileptic lady," he says. "I'm handling her case; consider yourself briefed."

"My patient with epilepsy," she corrects, griping her clipboard so hard her knuckles are turning white. "I'm not going to approve your handling of the case if I don't even know-"

"Let me break this down for you: I'm a neurosurgeon," he says. "It's my job to handle cases involving neurology. You're a general practitioner; it's your job to deal with hypochondriacs, try to make sure healthy patients stay that way, and call in specialists when you get a case that involves something bigger than heartburn, warts, or sprained ankles. Your patient's epilepsy falls into that something bigger category."

"Dr Oliver, I want to see you in my office this minute," Bob says, appearing from nowhere.

"That's kind of creepy," Reid comments. "Where did you come from?"

Bob places his hand on Dr Doolittle's shoulder. "Sara, I'll talk to you, later."

"Thank you, Bob," she says.

Reid goes to Bob's office and waits for the lecture. He'd thought he was finally free of them once he finished his fellowship. The things I'll do for a state-of-the-art neuro facility, he thinks.

"Dr Oliver, if you don't care about our patients-"

"Bob, let me stop you right there. I don't care about their stories, I don't care about their families and friends, and I don't care if they or anyone else likes me. But I assure you, I'm just as dedicated as you to see as many of them as possible walking out of here, healthy and whole. Now, Sara Doolittle out there can tell me all her patient's kids or dogs or nail treatments, I'm sure, but unless she can tell me more about the condition than what she put in her notes, in which case, fire her for not keeping proper notes, it's a waste of both my time, the patient's, and most likely the animals she spends so much time with."

Bob sighs. "Like it or not, your current way of handling things will cause problems, eventually. And if you don't have anyone in your corner-"

"I either get myself out, or I fall," he interrupts. "And so far, my way of handling things has worked out pretty well, if I do say so myself."

There's a knock on the door.

"Come in," Bob says, rubbing his head.

Luke's head pops in. "Oh," he says, seeing Reid. "You're here. That answers that. Is this a bad time?"

"We'll finish this conversation, later," Bob tells Reid. "Luke, please, come in. I assume this is a social visit?"

"Yeah," he answers. "Uh, Dr Oliver, my Grandma Emma made some more chocolate cake."

"What do you want, Mister Snyder," he inquires, already resigning himself. Luke has apparently decided not to bother with irritation and anger; instead, he's using subtler methods such as bribery.

"As you know, Dr Hughes's wife runs a local TV station. She wants Katie, one of the interviewers, to interview you on the new neuro facility."

"One interview, and I'm not promising not to correct her if she says anything utterly stupid."

"Great! I'll bring the cake at lunch."

"Tell me," Bob says, "when have you had Emma's cake, Dr Oliver?"

"Oh, I came by to have lunch with him yesterday," Luke answers. "And he stole mine."

"I didn't steal anything."

"Yeah, you did," Luke says, turning the full force of his smile on Reid. "But that's okay. You only further revealed your weaknesses."

"Yeah, I guess I did," he acknowledges, looking down when he feels the smile, against his best efforts, taking over his face. "I'll have you know, however, I'm expensive. This wouldn't work if your paternal grandmother weren't a culinary genius."

"Naturally, and my grandmother should be honoured to have such high praise from the great Dr Oliver," Luke says with good-natured sarcasm.

"Yeah, she should," he answers. Taking a breath, he says, "I need to get back to my rounds. Mister Snyder, Dr Hughes, I'll deal with you both later."

"Luke, could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, Bob," Luke answers as Reid leaves.

…

"Katie," Luke says, hugging a blonde woman who had literally bounced over. She's a modern day, career-oriented Goldilocks, Reid decides. "Thank you for this. Um, I tried to get him in a suit and tie, but he ate all the food I used to bribe him into coming here, and after Grandma Emma's cooking, Al's suddenly isn't good enough."

"No, of course not," Katie says, smiling. "Its fine, honey; he's a doctor, not a businessman."

"Finally, someone who speaks sense in this town," he mutters, looking down at his scrubs.

"I'm Katie Snyder," she says, shaking his hand. "Do you need prep time? Have any questions before we start?"

"No, just try not to ask any insipid questions or interrupt me."

She rolls her eyes as he winces when he feels Luke's elbow in his ribs. "The rumours about your ego and lack of manners weren't exaggerated, I see. I'll try my very best, Dr Oliver," she says, giving him a mock salute. "Well, if you don't need anything, I'm going to go talk to my husband."

Once she's walked away, Reid says, "I think I might like her."

"Oh, good, there might be hope for the rest of us, then," Luke answers, reaching over to tuck the tag into his scrubs. "I know you're going to say you don't need it, but: Good luck."

Some part of Reid is tempted, but he sucks it up. "Not today. Today, I'm just going say: Thank you."

Luke looks at him suspiciously for a moment, and then, smiles and looks at him with soft eyes, and Reid's lost.

He knows he's lost.

Get the hell over it, he thinks, looking away. You had sex, you had a meeting, you had two meals together, and you know a little about him from your internet snooping. You don't know anywhere near enough about him, and you don't need to.

To himself, he'll admit he sucks at relationships, and further, he doesn't even know if Luke is available (all he said was that he wasn't with the black-haired, blue-eyed man) or would be interested in such a thing. The last thing he needs is to put his neuro facility in jeopardy.

"You okay, doc?"

Shaking his head, he looks back over. "Never better, Mister Snyder."

…

A few days later, Reid is plotting how to best murder Bob for assigning him a patient with a sebaceous cyst.

"Hey," Luke says, knocking on the door with one hand, food with the other.

"I'm having a bad day and won't be bribed with food."

"That's okay," Luke says, sitting down. "I actually came to talk to you about the facility, not to bribe you. Is everything okay?"

"I'm sure I'll manage to survive. What about the facility?"

"I'm not telling you how to run it," Luke prefaces. "But I've been doing some research, talking to some neurosurgeons-"

Reid laughs, derisively.

"None as smart as you, I'm sure," Luke continues before Reid can say anything, "but they were civil, so that's something. And I've come up with some ideas. If you could go over them-"

"Dr Reid to O.R., Dr Reid to O.R…"

"Later," he says, grabbing one of Luke's cookies and stuffing it in his mouth.

…

When he gets out of surgery, one of the nurses stops him. "Dr Oliver, I have something for you at reception. Luke wanted me to make sure you got it."

She hands him a folder of files and a bag of cookies.

"Know any good bars around here?"

At her look, he says, "That's not me hitting on you. I want something besides convenience store beer and what they serve at the Lakeview. Aside from here, Al's, and the Lakeview, I know where nothing in this town is, including, ironically enough, convenience stores."

"Oh," she says, "would you like to go out with me and Casey? We could-"

"No, I don't want company. Just directions."

"Okay," she agrees. "You'd probably like…"

…

He drops his car off, walks to the bar Alison Stewart suggested, has a drink, and comes back to look at the proposal and eat his cookies.

Some of the ideas outlined are ridiculous, but some of them aren't too bad.

Calling Luke, he leaves a message, "We should meet and talk about some of your suggestions. Call me."

…

"Okay," Luke says, as the walk around Oakdale, "have you ever had someone you cared about in the hospital? Not a patient, but a family or friend who you couldn't see?"

"I have. Waiting rooms are hell. Either there's nowhere to sit, or you squeeze into a small, hard, cold chair. All the magazines are crap, and when it comes to the TV, there's no cable or you can't turn the volume up enough to hear it. The nurses and orderlies may be sympathetic, but they're also busy. So, you're stuck with nothing to take your mind off the fear and pain, desperately wanting to be with your loved one, desperately wanting to know how they're doing, desperately wanting to do something to take your mind of everything but too scared to leave."

"Be that as it is, I need all the space I can get for the patients, not their loved ones. In some cases, I can order all the C.A.T scans I want, but until I cut into the skull, I don't know what I'm dealing with. The quicker I can get a sample to the lab, have it analysed, the less exposure time my patient's brain has, the better their chances of recovery."

"But you can still have a lab close to the surgical room, I'm assuming. We can put the waiting room across the building. I just think you should offer some comfort to the families and friends."

"And how much will that cost?"

"Whatever it costs," Luke answers, as if it's that simple.

"Be realistic, Ritchie Rich."

"I am. You wouldn't believe how many donors are contributing. You want the best in the country, make it the best in the country," Luke says, stopping and looking at him. "Listen to me. You may not have any use for the loved ones of your patients, but you can't take them out of the equation. And if you try to, you're risking lives, Doctor."

Turning, he starts walking. "What's the story with you and Brian Wheatley?"

"I told you-"

"You told me the abridged, clean version. You're so grateful for me helping him that you're taking a very personal interest in seeing me rewarded. Gratitude like that, it always comes with a complicated story."

"Maybe I just respect the goal you're trying to accomplish."

"Sarcasm so subtle it sounds polite and diplomatic, nice," he comments, looking over. You know, I don't mind- well, usually I don't- when people tell me to butt out, but I hate it when people try to sidestep. Say what you mean, mean what you say; it's one of those platitudes I've always respected."

"Brian was in a bad place," Luke says, after a moment. "He hurt me, my grandmother, and my ex-boyfriend, Noah. However, once he took steps to make amends and I got over my anger and pain and confusion, I realised I wanted to help him. In some ways, I've been where he was, and I've done bad, hurtful things, too. I've had to make peace with myself, and I want to make it as easy as possible for him to the same. He and I will probably never be close, but I do care about him. Since he left, doing this for you is the first thing he's asked me for."

"What if I'd said no?"

"Then, you'd still be in your clinic, and I'd still be here," Luke answers. "He'd still be in Minneapolis. And the world would keep turning as always."

"Fine," Reid says, "some of your suggestions for the waiting room might be workable, but we're not turning it into party central. Barring any emergency surgery on my part, we're meeting the architect on Wednesday, right?"

"Yeah," Luke answers, looking over with a small smile. "Aside from the fact you think this town is insane, which, fair enough, and the fact you and Bob are clashing, how are you settling in? Allie told me she gave you directions last night."

"I'd be better if-"

"Reid Oliver," a man says, and once he sees the face attached to the voice, he braces himself and pushes Luke away.

…

"I don't understand," Luke repeats, dogging him.

"I have rounds. Money for the neuro facility or not, if you interrupt me while I'm with a patient, you'll regret it," he says, trying to ignore the stinging and swelling in his face.

Annie Judd didn't even make it to the double-digits, because he couldn't save her. He remembers when he was told about Annie's death, he absolutely refused to see Mia for a week; she was only a little older than Annie at the time, and he knew he'd do something horrible such as crying or clinging to her if he did.

Mr Judd's tracked him down, punched him, almost took a swing Luke, the stupid, interfering, do-gooder brat, and Reid's sure he'll make good on his threat to try to get his license revoked.

Luke has the good sense to leave him alone, but Bob corners him in between patients. "What happened to you?"

"None of your business."

"I've been fielding calls," Bob says, quietly. "I've heard you got into a fight, and I've heard you were attacked. A few people are insistent you threw the first punch. I can't do much about your abrasive attitude, but to hell if I'm going to have any doctor associated with this hospital assaulting people."

Sighing, Reid clenches his fists and raises them, pointing them towards Bob. "If I had a problem with someone, I wouldn't risk my hands in dealing with them. A few years ago, I had a patient by the name of Annie Judd. I gave her an extra year of life, but I couldn't give her any more than that. Her father is a grieving man who can't cope, and it's easier for him to take his frustrations out on my face than it is to try to."

"Let Susan look over you over, and then, make things right with Luke," Bob says with a sigh. "He's worried and kept insisting you didn't touch the other man, but I wanted to hear from your own mouth what exactly happened."

"How that's any of your business, Bob?"

"It's your choice, but unless you're willing to befriend another person in the Snyder clan, I doubt you'll get a chance to steal or be bribed with anymore of Emma's cooking."

"Good point. Where's Dr Stewart?"

After being directions, he realises something and turns, jogging to catch up with Bob. "Luke Snyder and I aren't friends."

"It's a figure of speech, Dr Oliver," Bob says, giving him a look he knows he deserves. It's rather childish to run after someone to clarify such a thing, he'll admit. It's just- him being the doctor and Luke being the philanthropist who occasionally bribes him is a well-defined relationship, and unless he happens to get lucky and Luke decides he wants more, it's best Reid makes sure he and everyone else is aware of those lines.

Reid walks away before the situation can get any worse.

…

He finds Luke in the cafeteria.

"I hate small town-gossip," he says, sitting down.

"Let me attempt to contain my shock," Luke replies. Looking up, however, he asks, "Are you okay," as he makes an abortive motion with his hand. "Did you straighten everything out with Bob? I told him what happened. Or at least, what I knew about what happened."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Clean bill of health, still have my job, one of my patients thought this," he says, gesturing to his face, "was 'cool'. Then, another one burst into tears. Win some, lose some, huh?"

Obviously trying not to laugh, Luke nods and looks at him in such a way he feels his breath catch. "I know I'm not going to get you to explain this. Anything I can do?"

"I need to find someone tonight," Reid says, stretching. "Where can I go where my face won't be a problem?"

"Find some- Oh, right," Luke says, shifting. He looks down, takes two breaths, and then, straightening his shoulders, looks back up. "Well, uh, feel free to say no, but I don't mind your face."

"You do remember who you're talking to?"

At Luke's shrug, he says, "I'm not sure if I kiss tonight."

He watches as his words hit, and before he can fully tell himself how stupid he's being, Luke smiles and shrugs. "That's okay. When do you get off?"

…

Luke is a force when he's not passive, Reid has quickly realised.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and rolls over, wrapping his arm around Luke, hand finding the transplant scar, as if on instinct. "Thank you," he says, quietly. "You have no idea how much I needed that. Same in Dallas."

Luke chuckles and wiggles closer. "Well, you found out what all made me tick; I thought it only fair I did the same."

He feels sleep fast approaching. "Stay for breakfast."

"Okay," Luke agrees.

…

"Do you really think Mr Judd would sue you for malpractice?"

"I don't know," Reid answers, heavily, taking a drink of his tea. If he finds out Luke has upgraded from food to sex as bribery, he's going to- Well, he wishes he knew.

He didn't use it as bribery, but that'd be helpful, wouldn't it, the part of him that refuses to indulge him speaks up. Then, you wouldn't have to deal with the fact you're exposing too much of yourself to him, and that you would be even without the sex.

"Annie was everything to him and his wife. If this happens, you might have to find another way to help Brian. I- can't live if I'm not a doctor. I certainly can't run a neuro facility, and if this happens, Bob isn't going to be in my corner. There'll be an investigation, and I'll be suspended while it's on-going."

"Bob will back you," Luke insists. "He knows how valuable you are, and-"

"No, he won't. He flat out told me that my way of handling things is a guarantee he won't be in my corner."

"I am," Luke says. "Look, maybe, if I talk to Mr Judd-"

"You can't reason with or bribe a distraught father. I don't know, maybe _you_ can empathise with him, but most likely, he's going to do what he feels he has to, and no one is going to change his mind."

"So, I shouldn't even try, then?"

"You might make things worse," he answers. "Or," he continues, reaching out to touch Luke's cheek, "we might end up with a matching set. Neither option sounds appealing. If he does sue, I'll try to figure out what to do, then."

"We," Luke corrects. "I'll stay away from him, but if he does decide to sue, we'll figure out what to do. Most of those donors? It's gotten to the stage where their money is no longer refundable. They're not going to take too kindly to the neuro facility not being built."

"True," he agrees. "But technically, you could still build it. Just promise me you won't give it to Channing."

"Dr Oliver, you'd come back as a ghost and haunt me and probably the rest of Oakdale. Either way, I'm looking at life in a mental institution, or a good old-fashioning lynching."

"Yeah, I'd try to avoid both if I were you."

Luke looks up from his plate. "Would- would you like some more company tonight?"

"Sure, Luke," he answers, and he has to look down at the smile that produces.

…

"Dr Oliver, a minute of your time, please?"

"Sure, Bob," he answers with a sigh.

"I heard you've been having breakfast with Luke lately."

"Okay," he says. "And you interrupted my rounds to tell me this?"

"No," Bob says, looking at Reid in a way that makes him uncomfortable. "He's had the most success with tempering you, and I'm hoping having him in the forefront of your mind will help when I tell you this: You will be getting a summons later today. Mr Judd is suing."

"Of course," he says. "Thanks for the tip."

"Where are you going?"

He keeps walking, trying to keep his anger in check.

Bob's always made it clear he won't fight for him. Patients are going to die, he's probably going to end up deliberately lying down on a set of train tracks, but he has no one to blame but himself. Sure, Bob's a coward who doesn't give a damn about patients as much as he claims, but he brought this on himself.

He agreed to work at a hospital he knew had such draconian guidelines.

"Dr Oliver," Bob says, hand firm around his arm, "we are not finished with this-"

"I am."

"You walk away right now, and my testimony will be in support of the Judd family," Bob says, quietly. "I'm going to let go of your arm, and you're going to decide whether you want not just a grieving father against you but someone who has been on the job for over half a century and has earned a lot of respect and made many friends."

Bob does, and Reid considers walking away.

Sense overcomes his anger, and he says, as calmly as possible, "Where do you want to talk, Dr Hughes?"

Back in Bob's office, Bob says, "I should have asked you this when you first told me. Was it your fault?"

"No, I told you, he's avoiding his grief and coming after my career."

"That sounds like a very researched answer," Bob says. "Be honest: Did you make a mistake?"

"No," Reid answers, looking him in the eyes. "I'd tell you if I had."

"Okay," Bob says. "I'm going to fight the suspension. Keep doing your rounds until then. We're going to figure this out."

"What?"

"When someone goes after one of my doctors, they have to do through me."

"Thank you," he says, automatically. "I don't understand, though. Why? What's in it for you? From a P.R. standpoint, I've just become a liability."

"For a genius, you're clueless."

"Yeah, I've been told that," he answers.

"Do your rounds, have lunch with Luke, and I'll talk to you later."

…

"Why would Bob go to the bat for me?"

"Because you're a good doctor?"

"People aren't this good to me," he insists, reaching over to try Luke's lemonade. "I don't expect them to be."

"Reid, Bob cares about his staff. If he believes they're in the right, he'll go to hell and back for them. It's just who he is."

He's trying to ignore the feeling in his stomach. He has no doubt Bob is that type of person; he never has. Nevertheless, there's a distinction between him and the other doctors, namely the fact he's given Bob no personal reason to fight for him.

If Bob weren't the type of person who cared about colleagues and the loved ones of patients, he could understand Bob deciding his skill and the results he yielded were worth protecting. As it is, Bob is; he, on the other hand, is the man who's been nothing but rude and, from other people's perception, cold and uncaring.

He told Bob he cared about patients and prioritised them above all else, but people generally don't believe him when he says that.

"You're taking this pretty hard."

Sighing, he asks, "If you didn't have the foundation, would you be able to live a full and happy life?"

"I- imagine so."

"You and most people," he says. "Most people, if they lose their job or have to make a career change, they can adapt. I'm not like that. Medicine, operating on people, that's all I have. It's my life. If I can't be I doctor, if I can't perform surgeries, I truly have nothing to hold onto. Which is why, in addition to Bob's help, I need you. Your money, your power, whatever can be used."

"Grandmother and I are already working on it."

Catching Luke's eye, he says, "Thank you. I know- this mostly has to do with Brian, but I appreciate you being on my side."

"Reid- If this was just about Brian, I wouldn't be having lunch and breakfast with you almost every day. He wanted me to give you a neuro facility, and I'm doing that. Everything else, I'm doing because, it turns out, I like you in spite of yourself."

He'll never admit how much that hurts.

"And after all, you've only repeatedly told me and everyone else that you're one of the best doctors on planet Earth, and I can't in good conscience deprive those patients under general anaesthesia of your presence," Luke continues, smiling.

Just tell him you love him, Oliver, an unwelcome voice from the recesses of his says.

He can't afford to freak out over the until-unknown part of his mind that apparently hasn't left high school.

The fact is that, while he still doesn't know the history behind the transplant scar he always finds his hand over when he wakes up next to Luke and he's been lucky enough not to have much contact with most of the Snyder family, he does know enough to realise Luke is a romantic.

Luke's talked enough about Noah Mayer that it's clear he still hasn't gotten over his ex-boyfriend. Instead of denying himself or throwing himself into something he's not ready for, he's doing the mature thing, acknowledging his sexual needs, and getting them met while making sure he doesn't put himself or anyone else in an emotionally painful situation.

There are several arguments that keep popping up, facts that might counter that if he thinks of them, but he's going to ignore them. The fact is, he's inexplicably developed deep feelings for Luke, and he has to protect himself.

…

"My grandmother got the Texas medical board to schedule an emergency board meeting," Luke says, handing him coffee. For that, Reid decides not to kill him for waking Reid up at this ungodly hour. "You need to call Bob, and then, get ready to go."

"I think," Reid says, blinking in an order to wake up, "I should object to a businesswoman being able to influence medical politics so easily, but it only confirms what I've always known. What time is it?"

"Five a.m. As soon as we get to Texas and you testify, the sooner you can get back here and get back to work."

"Right," he says. "Food?"

"After we get on the jet," Luke answers, sounding rather amused. "A few days ago, you got a 911, and you were fully awake and out the door before I could even completely open my eyes."

"My mind is trained to automatically wake up in the event of emergencies and to cope with long hours of no sleep," he answers, taking another long sip of the coffee. "Otherwise, like most people, I need a set amount of sleep-time and don't do well without it."

I'm going to call Bob for you," Luke decides. "You, focus on getting dressed."

…

On the Snyder jet, feeling more alive now that he's gotten food and more coffee in his system, he asks, "Why did you and Noah Mayer break up?"

Luke tenses. "We're not talking about that."

"Why not?"

"It's a painful, complicated story."

"Okay," he agrees. "What's the story behind your kidney transplant?"

"You know what," Luke says, "we're going to talk about your testimony. Okay, now, pretend I'm the board and tell me what happened."

…

"I'm going to be talking to other doctors," he says, resisting the urge to crawl into the hotel's bed. "Probably not good ones, but they should be able to understand."

"Reid, the problem isn't me not understanding medical jargon. I know you've got that down pat," Luke says, yawning. "Annie Judd was a little girl, and her father is going to break their hearts. He's going to talk about her favourite cartoons, the pictures she drew in class, all these stories about this little girl he loved more than anything, who he was denied to see the chance to grow. He'll never know who his daughter would have been. What job, what career, whether she'd get married, have babies, wreck the car when she's sixteen, any of that."

"And you need to convince them that, if you could have, you would have given Annie all those years. You would have given them to her dad and mom. You need to convince them that her death was beyond your control but that you still tried your best anyway to help her."

Sitting down on the bed, Luke looks at him. "I know all that. You don't have to get all- sentimental with me. With them, though, if you go in there and just deliver the cold, hard facts, or worse, if you do that while insulting them, they're going to see the same hotshot, do-it-for-the-thrills-and-accolades doctor that Mr Judd is trying to paint you as."

Clutching his snacks, Reid sits down. "She had a nice smile," he says, quietly. Looking over, he clarifies, "Annie. Patients never smile when I come into the room, but she did. She went through hell no kid should go through. Chemo, blood tests, me cutting into her skull, and it'd only be natural for her to hate the sight of me. Instead, she'd always smile at me and her parents, as if she understood how worried we were, and she wanted us to be okay. I'm used to working with incredibly sick people, and I know, even to the ones I save, I'm a grim reaper type figure, but I didn't want to be that for her. I miss that smile."

Leaning over, Luke gives him a chaste kiss. "Tell them that, then."

"Doctors who do commit malpractice always have some tear-jerking story. The board should be concerned with the facts."

"I don't mean just tell them that. Tell me that in addition with the facts." Luke leans back. "I'm a brother. More than that, I'm a big brother. If something happened to any of my brothers or sisters, if I thought the doctor in charge of helping them didn't care about them beyond a fee or as new material to write about in some medical journal, I wouldn't be in the right mind-set to accept the facts."

"Tell me about the surgical scars on your back."

"Reid," he says with a hint of warning in his voice. "My past doesn't concern you."

"Alright," he reluctantly agrees. "Tell me something else, then. Isn't that how it goes, I open up, you open up?"

Luke sits up and looks at him for a long moment. Then, he says, "I'm not an alcoholic, but there's a reason beyond my kidney that I don't drink."

"Okay. When's the hearing? Do I have enough time to catch some sleep?"

"Yeah," Luke answers. "You should be able to sleep for three hours."

…

It turns out the cowboy bar is near the hotel.

Reid is firmly ignoring any signs the universe may or may not be throwing at him.

After the hearing, Luke drags him to it.

"It's not a real bull," Luke says, noticing Reid's grimace.

"Talk about a worthless skill," he says, watching as a man's time is written on a whiteboard.

"You couldn't do it," Luke answers, ordering a soda with lime and a Roy Rogers.

"I wouldn't want to do that."

Luke shrugs. "Whatever makes you feel better."

"You think I'm scared of that?"

That's unacceptable.

Reid's never claimed to be fearless, but this is a matter of pride, he decides. Luke is probably one of the bravest people he knows (people who live in Oakdale are either stupid, suicidal, brave, or a combination, and he hasn't decided which _he _is, yet, but he knows which one Luke is), and he can't have himself being thought of in such a way.

"Those who can do, and those who won't," Luke imitates a chicken. Badly, if Reid were to give his opinion.

He considers going into detail about all the medical risks riding that mechanical bull entails, including to the hands, but then, decides against it. Standing up, he takes off his jacket and puts his cell phone and wallet on the bar. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

"Wait, Reid," Luke says, reaching out. "You don't have to do that."

"How hard can it be," he inquires. "You did it. You just get on and ride, right?"

A combination of stupid and suicidal, his brain informs him as he climbs onto the monstrosity.

However, once he puts he focus on the adrenaline rather than the fear causing it, he finds himself enjoying it, especially when he catches a look at Luke's face. If he were more confident about anything involving Luke, he'd say the look was awestruck.

Wishful thinking, he tells himself as the ride ends. "That was fun," he declares when he gets over, still feeling too much adrenaline in his system. "Double or nothing, I can beat your time, Mister Snyder."

Shaking his head, Luke hands him his cell phone. "Medical board," he explains. "Why don't we go back to the hotel, and you can call them from there?"

…

Back at the hotel, he finds himself hesitating, wishing the adrenaline had stuck around.

"You're afraid it's bad news," Luke says, gently squeezing his shoulder.

"I wish I didn't care so much," he admits. "This phone call is everything. It's my career, my life. What if they tell me I can't practise medicine anymore?"

"We keep fighting," Luke answers, hand going to the curly strands of hair on his neck. "Now, obviously, there are several things I like about you, but you're an ass, Reid. And you're way too obnoxious to lie down and die."

He laughs. Then, he says, "I know you're probably tired of hearing this, but I've worked my whole life to become what I am. I need my work."

"I know," Luke answers, tugging slightly on the hair. "You're going to be fine. Now, make the call."

He does, and when the voice on the other end tells him he's been cleared, all the adrenaline comes flooding back. He hangs up and grabs Luke, kissing him.

…

When he gets back to Oakdale, he goes to Bob's office.

"Who did you make cry this time," Bob inquires, looking at his watch.

"No one," Reid promises, sitting down. "Look, Dr Hughes: Thank you. You're right, despite my genius, there's a lot I don't understand. What I do know is that you had more than enough reason to let me fend for myself, but you didn't. And I'm sincerely grateful for that."

Bob smiles. "Well, thank you, Dr Oliver. I never expected to hear those words from you."

"Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

"Instead of having a facility built, you can consider having a neurological wing added to Memorial," Bob answers. "I've been talking to Lucinda, but she's been too busy to talk to Luke just yet. It'd still be built around you, and you'd have direct and complete control over it. Having you remain on staff here and having it to boast would really help Memorial."

"What would be in it for me?"

"Perhaps, you'd eventually learn how to relate to others," Bob suggests. Before Reid can respond, he continues, "I think you have great potential, Reid, but to be honest, I don't think you're living up to it. Not as a person. You live in a hotel, you'd rather snap at nurses than listen to them, and you have very little in the way of a social life."

"How does any of that affect my work as a doctor? Do you think if I rent an apartment or buy a house and go out for drinks or dancing or whatever it is people do that I'm suddenly going to gain even greater medical knowledge? Moreover, for the record, in Dallas, nurses didn't cry when I talked to them. They were tough, they gave as good as they got, and you can thank them for my wonderful fashion sense in ties."

"You're not listening," Bob says. "Strangely enough, I like you. I don't like some of the things you do, I don't understand some of the things you do, and I know there are things about me you dislike and don't understand. However, I do like you. You're a good a doctor, and until you arrived, seeing Luke smile was becoming a distressing rarity. Because I like you, I worry about you. I'm sure you're content enough. I know what makes me happy in my life isn't what's right for everyone. But I think you could be much happier if you made a home for yourself, created a family."

"I don't believe in marriage, and I won't be having any children."

"It's not always about that," Bob says. "I know that, and so should you. Family doesn't always come down to blood and marriage. Sometimes, it's about finding people you love and creating a bond with them."

Reid thinks about Doogie.

"Look, Bob, I'll talk to Luke, and I'll consider it."

…

"What do you think?"

Reid tries not to snap in exasperation. "I've told you what I think. Now, if you'd be so kind, I'd like your opinion."

"Would it make you happy?"

"I don't- what is it with you and Bob and happiness? You're the one who knows how publicity and stuff works. If I stay at Memorial and create a wing, do I eventually get enough patients to save and enough good publicity that I can eventually make it the best in the world? Or is that better accomplished by going with the facility?"

"Now," Luke declares, wiping some ketchup off his face, "we're getting somewhere. Actually, I usually call Brian when I need advice on publicity related stuff. And I'll do that either later tonight or tomorrow."

"'We're getting somewhere'?"

"I know you want the best neuro facility in the world, and you want to save lives no one else can, and you want to not answer to anyone while you're doing that. I know you're not very patient, but you have to acknowledge that getting all of that is going to be gradual. I don't know what you are and aren't willing to put up with in the process."

"If you stay at Memorial, it might be a long time before you get to where don't have answer anyone, but one possible advantage is having Bob in your corner if you ever need him again. It might bring in more publicity and money than you'd get if you ran the facility, not associated with any hospital. On the other hand, Oakdale is crazy. Memorial has its share of black marks. And you clash with almost everyone you don't have firmly under your control."

"I'll get you some projections on which seem like the fastest option, but honestly, Reid, if you want my advice, I think you should just decide where you'll be the happiest and let it take as long as it takes for your genius to pay off. Decide what you want right now, and go for it."

"I want to have dinner with you."

"Uh," Luke says, giving him a look and waving to the food on the table.

"That- It worked better in my head," he says, already regretting this. "I mean: I want a- relationship. With you."

Oh, just euthanize yourself, now, he thinks.

"I'm not sure how you feel about me, but- obviously, I'm terrible at this. Would you just save me from further babbling and give me an answer?"

"Technically, you didn't ask me anything," Luke says, grinning.

Reid glares.

"Sorry, I just had to," Luke says, still grinning. Reaching over to touch his hand, the smile suddenly fades. "I really like you, Reid. But- here's the thing: I have a lot of baggage, for lack of a better term, and I'm not ready to tell you about most of it. So, if you go in, that's what you'll be dealing with, a lot of baggage you can't even see, that you might end up tripping over and not even knowing what it is that hurt you. And I don't have the right to ask that of anyone. It's the sort of situation I'd tell my friends and family to avoid, no matter how much they cared for the person."

His heart feels as if it's literally sinking, and he never wanted to know what it felt like when people used that expression. He was perfectly content in thinking them melodramatic.

"But like I said, I really like you, enough that I'm too selfish to be the one to say no," Luke says, squeezing his hand. "So, this is your out. You can crack a joke, and we can keep going like we have been. Or we can keep hanging out minus the sex, if that'll make it easier for you." He pauses. "Or you can ask me properly, and I'll say yes. As someone who does care about you and does want to see you happy, I'm advising you to take the out."

"Yeah, well, you can't even help me make a decision about my career without having to call your grandmother's ex-husband," he answers. "You'll understand if I don't place much faith in some of your advice."

"My turn, now," he says, sighing. "I know you don't like the way I treat most people. But it's not something I'm going to change, and unless you accept that, we won't work. Beyond that, my idea of sentiment is not eating the last doughnut."

"I will forget your birthday, I will forget anniversaries, and there's a chance I'll forget holidays, not to mention working through all three. I'll insult your family and your friends, and I probably won't apologise for it. You'll have to get used to interruptions and sometimes not seeing me for days or nights at a time. Really, aside from good sex, the only thing I can promise you is that I'll always be honest, and unless you give me a reason not to, I'll always trust you."

"So, would you like to catch a movie or go to dinner or whatever it is people in relationships do?"

For a moment, Luke positively beams, and Reid wishes he'd paid more attention to all those songs and cards about love. Then, Luke takes a breath. "Reid, are you sure?"

"Was that not a proper enough invitation for you?"

Suddenly, he's been kissed, and finally, he feels grounded, not as if his skin were a prison some part of him were trying to escape.

…

"I heard about you and Luke."

Remembering some of Doogie's issues, Reid inquires, "And is this going to be a problem, Dr Hughes?"

"I hope not," Bob answers, "but if it is, I want you to know I'll do everything I can help."

"Okay, wait," Reid says, "what did you hear about me and Luke?"

"That you were dating, now. Is that-"

"Yeah, we are," he answers. "If this isn't a problem for you- I'm missing something here, Bob."

"Whether you stay here or not, he's a major benefactor. There are people who might try to block things on the objection that there's a huge conflict of interest. Obviously, however, you and Luke are grown men, and anyone who's been in a room with you can safely say you aren't going to do anything you don't want to."

"And where's the concern for him?"

"Dr Oliver, I'm not a violent person by any means, but I assure you, if I thought Luke was doing anything with you that he didn't want to, you'd already be knocked on your back, and you wouldn't have time to get up before a number of people with a significantly more liberal attitude towards violence were here. Some of which, I feel it only fair to add, make up the police, law makers, and media of this town."

"That's good to know," he says, smiling. "Really. Thank you, Bob."

…

Faith Snyder is a chunky, scowling girl who tells him, "I know how to use Grandma Emma's shotgun, and when Parker broke his leg a few years ago near the river, we managed to get the horses to help get him back to the house. The pond's deeper than it looks, and we have plenty of heavy rocks that can fit in pockets."

"Just so we're clear: This is your way of threatening me if I hurt your brother, right?"

"Aren't you supposed to be a genius brain surgeon?"

"Okay," Luke says, desperately, shoving a plate in Reid's hands. "Reid, shut up and eat your cookies. Faith, baby girl, I appreciate your concern, and just so you know, I'll be extra-embarrassing when you bring someone over. We have so many adorable pictures of you, and the videos do an even better job of capturing your-"

"How's everyone doing," Holden Snyder inquires, making Reid wonder if appearing out of nowhere is a Snyder family trait or expanded to everyone in this bizarre town.

Thankfully, Luke quickly extracts him and takes him to the pond. "Hey, are you okay? You're being awfully quiet."

"I told you I'd insult your family and friends, and trust me, that will happen, but I'm not going to actively set out to do it," he says, wrapping his arms around Luke, his hand disappearing underneath the shirt and finding the scar.

"I appreciate that," Luke says. Resting his head on Reid's shoulder, he says, "Question for question, Doctor. I ask you something personal, and you ask me something personal. No limits."

"No," Reid says, immediately. "I can't and won't answer anything specific about patients and certain things involving colleagues. And if you really don't feel comfortable answering something, don't."

"Fair enough," Luke agrees. "Have you ever been in love?"

"Probably not," Reid answers. "That, uh, that's not a deflection or sarcasm. I've had relationships before, and most of them were good. They ended on a good note. I liked most of the people I was with, and some of them, if I got a call, no matter what time, what I had planned, I'd try to be there for them. But love like they talk about in movies and romance novels, I've never felt anything like that."

"Hmm," Luke murmurs, pressing closer against him. "Your turn."

"How'd you feel when you first saw me that night in Dallas?"

"I thought you were hot," Luke answers. "I wanted to kiss you, and," he says, his arm going around Reid's shoulder, fingers twisting in the curly strands and tugging gently. "I was wondering if you were even gay, and when I found out you were, I wondered if you were out. I was terrified."

"I'd never had a one-night stand before, and I knew there was a possibility I was getting myself in a dangerous situation. Your bluntness actually helped set me at ease some; it made you seem like a very honest person. I was worried that, despite what you said, you wouldn't be interested once it became clear how inexperienced I was."

"How'd you feel afterward?"

"I was a little sad when I woke up alone, but I knew I would, and some part of me was relieved. I wished I knew your name so that when, uh, I relived the night I'd have that. I hoped things got better with your patient. Mostly, I just felt really good that a hot guy had wanted me and that I'd been able to have sex without expectations or guilt."

"Yeah, that patient had died," Reid says, and then, feels like smacking himself. "But his one big dream was to be a dad, and seven months later, a friend of his had his baby. A healthy little girl."

"Oh," Luke says, softly, his fingers making comforting design on Reid's neck. "Your turn, again."

"Are you still in love with your ex-boyfriend?"

"No."

One word isn't supposed to cause so much hope and fear, he's sure.

Luke's cell rings. "Oh, that's Brian," he says. Answering it, he says, "Hey, Brian. How are you doing?"

…

"So," he says, the next day, sitting down in Bob's office, "if I stay here, how much are you willing to raise my salary, and what perks can I score?"

"What are you aiming for," Bob inquires, looking vaguely amused.

"I want my own office, Dr Doolittle's parking place, and a title with the word 'genius' in it."

"Well," Bob says, "I can offer you a ten percent raise, your own office, and the possibility of negotiating a better parking place."

"Come on, Bob, do better than that."

"Fine, my final offer is the raise, your own office, possibly a better parking place, and when there are sweets in the paediatric ward, assuming there's enough for the children, you get the maximum of three desserts."

"What if it's fruitcake?"

"If it's established the children are refusing desserts of their own free will with no bribery, threats, or other forms of manipulation on your part, the number can be negotiated."

"I want all this in writing," Reid says, standing up. "Until then, my fate's still up in the air."

"I'll have it to you by the end of rounds," Bob says, standing up. "Welcome aboard, Dr Oliver."

Shaking his head, Reid answers, "I won't insult your intelligence by saying I'm happy to be here. I'm doing this because I've been informed it's the fastest step to having the greatest neurowing in the world. Doctor."

…

After he and Luke have celebrated, Luke kisses his chest. "What was your first impression of me, in Dallas?"

"Aside from thinking you were an idiot for riding that mechanical bull, you had a nice smile," Reid says, quietly. "After finding out about my patient, it helped. I thought you were handsome. I probably wouldn't have talked to you; I usually left it up to other men to approach me when I went out, but some part hoped you would. I try my best to never sleep with married men, and I was wondering if you were."

"Yeah, I remember you asking that."

"I also looked at your hands. No ring or tan line. Doesn't always mean anything, but it's something I do."

He considers his next question carefully.

Finally, he says, "Look, Luke, I want to know your story, but right now, not knowing it isn't a deal-breaker. I'm not going to force it out of you. When you're ready or when I get tired of waiting, we'll go from there."

Luke tenses but doesn't pull away. "I want you to get to know me, Reid. It's just, I want you to get to know me, now, before you know who I was."

"Okay. So, I'll ask you questions about now. That first night in Dallas is as far back as I'll go."

"Thank you," Luke says, propping himself up and leaning down to kiss him. "Thank you."

Once the kiss is broken, with Luke stealing one more, he asks, "Why do you still live with your parents?"

"A variety of reasons," Luke answers. "I don't pay rent, but I do help with my siblings and around the house and farm. Some of it goes back to my past. Pathetic, huh?"

"No," he answers, honestly. "When I was six, my uncle took me in, which we'd both have been happier if he hadn't. I left as soon as I was sixteen. But I don't see why so many people look down on it. Assuming a person's family respects the fact they're an adult and they aren't a mooch, who am I to judge them for what works? In Texas, I'd have lived in a hotel if they'd had one like the Lakeview."

"I'm going to ask about your uncle at a different time," Luke informs him, lying back down and curling closer to him. "Have you ever lived with someone?"

"Yeah. In college, I had a roommate, and in Texas, I lived with a boyfriend for a little over two years. He didn't mind my anal retentive, obsessive compulsion tendencies, and I didn't mind the fact he sang in the shower or any of the various gases and noises that emitted from him when he slept."

"How'd you and the roommate do?"

"He was always surrounded by his friends, and that prevented both of us from killing on another," he answers, feeling himself smiling as Luke laughs. "Tell me about all your siblings."

"Seriously?"

"I have to learn, eventually."

…

"Hey," Goldilocks says when he's getting some coffee at Java. "Bob and Kim are having a dinner party; you should come and get to know people without Luke."

"Do I know you? I mean, I remember the interview, but did I miss the part where we became two people who approached one another in public, with no provocation or context?"

She simply grins, and considering she's married and he might dangerously close to falling in love with Luke, it's a good thing he's never doubted his homosexuality. "Luke's away on business, and half the town still doesn't know what to make of you," she tells him. "The other half hates you. I'm seen how in love you are with him, and if you want a chance at it working, you need to prove yourself worthy to the people who love him."

"I'm not- I don't need to prove anything to anyone. Luke's a big boy. He can decide who he does and doesn't want to date. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, it doesn't. Now, if that's all, I have to get back to Memorial. Unlike your job involving tabloid television, mine is important."

"You're not as endearing as you think you are," she says, mildly. "Normally, I'd just call you an asshole and be on my way, but one, you don't know how nice it's been to see Luke so happy, and two, you couldn't say you're not in love with him. Here's my card," she says, setting it down, "and the party's at seven; call me if you need directions, a ride, whatever."

With that, she bounces away.

He pockets the card, collects his order, and goes to Memorial. "That Katie woman who interviewed me just invited me to your dinner party," Reid informs Bob.

"Yes," Bob says, "Katie frequently does that. Any party she's invited to or throwing, she's determined to make sure everyone on the guest list both knows they're on it and has a way to arrive. If you decide not to attend, I'd recommend you not opening your door until the morning. It won't protect you from her vengeance, of course, but she wouldn't drag you to our house after the party's ended."

"Vengeance? Bob, tell me you're kidding."

"I'm kidding about that part," Bob answers, smiling. "But she's been known to wrangle the most reluctant of people into things. Personally, I think it'd be good for you."

"Whose idea was it to invite me?"

"Mine," Bob answers. Before he can continue, he's paged over the intercom. "Think about it, Dr Oliver," he says before leaving.

…

"Thank you for coming, Dr Oliver."

"Bob," he answers, shaking his hand.

"I'm surprised you came."

"There's nothing good on TV, and after all the stories I've heard of various shenanigans happening at Oakdale parties, I couldn't resist."

"Kim's made a special dish just for you," Bob says, leading him to the table. "You don't have to eat it."

"Does it contain poison or have hospital coffee as an ingredient?"

"Dr Oliver, it's so nice of you to show up," Goldilocks says, coming over. "Bob, Tom and Lisa are arguing."

"If you'll excuse me," Bob says, briefly clasping his shoulder.

"Lisa Grimaldi is Bob's ex-wife, and Tom Hughes is their son, right?"

She nods. "I know the families around here can be complicated at times," she says as they sit. "Especially mine and Luke's."

"Right, you and him are related, aren't you?"

"Yes," she answers. "PowerPoint or flashcards?"

"Flashcards," he answers with a sigh, wondering what's happened to him. "I've never needed flashcards for anything."

She gives him a sympathetic pat, and he doesn't know whether he appreciates it or wants to add her to the growing list of people that he's going to hand the next non-Oakdale resident who has a problem with him. Rude, abrasive, cold, limited-to-no empathy, none of that has anything on any of the people he has on said list.

"Where's your husband?"

"With his daughter," she answers. "Liberty's been feeling under the weather recently. They're spending some quality time together tonight."

"Right," he says, grateful when Kim Hughes places a dish of blue mush in front of him.

"Even you have to admit, Dr Oliver, this town has its charms," Katie says, making a face at his dish.

"You're not the first person to say that to me," he informs her, wondering if there's going to be seconds of the delicious blue mush. "Aside from the craziness, which, I'll admit is better than anything I can find on cable or from reading psychological studies, what I can't stand is the hypocrisy. This is supposed to be a close-knit town where people can give their kids a safe, supportive place to grow. But the residents here seem to swap partners as often as I do my socks, there are feuds, people presumed dead only to not actually be dead, serial killers, baby drama- there are soap operas that are more realistic than this town is."

The worst thing he holds against Oakdale is that he imagines Luke would have turned out happier and better off if he'd been raised elsewhere by non-crazy, vaguely incestuous people.

He doesn't know how deep it goes, which is disturbing due to how deep what he does know goes, or the all of the specific circumstances behind it, but Luke has baggage.

Kidney transplant, avoids alcohol for reasons beyond that, temporary paralysis brought on by a boyfriend's father trying to kill him, multiple kidnappings, and his combination of alternately taking on the whole world and working his ass off to save it. All those combined, and it paints a picture of a kid who went through stuff no one should have to and grew up too fast as a result.

"Luke's the exception to all that, though," she says, much too knowingly for his taste.

"Do you know if there's going to be more of this," he asks, gesturing to the now empty dish.

…

"I heard you went to a dinner party at Bob's house," Luke says as they walk hand-in-hand through town.

"I've decided Katie Snyder is tolerable."

"Reid," Luke scolds.

"Aside from talking to her, who gave as good as she got, I was very quiet. Kim Hughes made a special, delicious dish just for me, and I thanked her. How was your trip?"

"There are so many bigots in this world," Luke answers, wearily.

"Anything I can do?"

"When can we schedule some alone time in your room?"

"Now's good, if you want."

…

"Do you want to talk about it," he asks after Luke's gotten out of the shower.

"I managed to work out an agreement to get food delivered to low-income families with children," Luke says, crawling into the bed.

Reid stays at his desk.

"But the people I had to talk to- One of them made his opinion of gay people explicit without explicitly saying anything. And don't say I was overreacting. I wasn't."

"He hated me, he hated what I was, and I have to accept that people like him live on this planet. But people like him, they rarely have to accept that people like me do, too. They shout slurs and talk about protecting children, never mind that I'd kill myself before I'd ever hurt a kid, and want all these accommodations for their hate, but the moment we manage to carve out a little bit of safety, a little bit of happiness, they complain about all these special rights we're unfairly granted."

"I wouldn't know one way or another if you were overreacting," he says. "I wasn't there."

That causes Luke to look over. "Yeah, right. Sorry. I- have had problems with overreacting in the past, and I've been trying to get over it. But honestly? I probably never completely will."

"I'll remember that," he says, going over to the bed and sitting down. Automatically, Luke shifts, pressing his body against Reid's leg. "Look- I'm not good at comfort."

"I don't have the same fire for the subject that you do. I've just never liked or respected most people enough to care what they thought of me, and maybe I should be, but I've never worried about people coming after me for that. Realistically, it's a possibility, but so is a rabid bat getting in and biting me. Now, when it comes to what Mr Judd did, I do fear that."

"But anyway, despite that, I want you to know I do respect what you do. It takes guts. Most people aren't like you and me. They're average people who fear the same things you do, but unlike you, they don't have what it takes to fight, to make the world a better place for themselves and others. You do that for them. You give them that safe place where they can hopefully be happy, and you try your best not to let idiots and jerks take it away or make them feel like they don't deserve it."

Luke continues tracing designs on his legs, and he says, "I don't know it any of that helps, but-"

Suddenly, Luke sits up and reaches over, kissing him.

When the kiss breaks, Luke steals one more before lying back down and saying, "Ask me something about my past, or whatever. I'm not ready to tell you everything, but I'll tell you something."

Lying down, Reid lets his hand slide over to the scar. "More than one person has mentioned how good it is to see you happy. Bob said something about how it was a rarity. With everything that's happened, I can understand why smiling would be rare, but you always seem to bounce back remarkably quickly."

"That's not technically a question, but I'll overlook that," Luke says, ignoring Reid's kick at his ankle. "As a kid, I was, I wouldn't say wild, but precocious. I loved almost everybody."

"When I was a teenager, I did bad things; I hurt people, and more than that, I just an all-around little shit. Eventually, I got over it, and while I still had problems -I'll always have problems- I tried my best to be happy and positive, and usually, I was. Then, well, I made bad choices and let my issues make a mess of things, again."

Sighing, he says, "And again, I managed to get a hold of myself, and I've been trying harder than ever to not mess things up. Before you came, I wasn't sad or depressed. I worked hard at the foundation, and I tried to keep my siblings happy and safe. I was just- I was quieter and a little more withdrawn than most people were comfortable with."

Trying to take all that in, Reid closes his eyes. "Do you want to do your question, now, or do you want a rain check?"

"Before I showed up with Lucinda, did you ever think of me?"

He briefly considers not answering.

"Yeah," he says. "You had business cards on the table; I knew your name. That morning after we had sex, your wallet was right there, and I didn't, but I considered looking at your driver's licence. Instead, I Googled you that night. I don't know why. Something about you just refused to leave my thoughts."

"Wow," Luke says.

"Not freaked out?"

"No," Luke answers. "I would have Googled you if I'd known your name, and I'm aware what this says about me, but there's a good chance I would have opened your wallet and looked at your driver's license if I'd thought of it and had the opportunity."

…

"How can a yo-yo just disappear," Luke mutters, looking under the bed while Reid checks the desk, which Luke's siblings are strictly forbidden from going near.

"Found it," he says, sighing.

Sitting up, Luke sees where he found it and winces. "Sorry. I promise that I'll take them to the park or somewhere next time."

Reid helps him up.

"You know," he says, "you practically live here."

There's anti-rejection medicine in the bathroom, Luke's clothes are scattered everywhere, and the password's been set on the TV to keep the younger Snyders from stumbling across anything unsuitable for their age group. Luke's gotten annoyed at his insistence the medicine be locked up in Reid's lockbox when said children come by, but Reid's a doctor who's seen too many kids deathly ill from getting into the medicine cabinet; he knows Luke couldn't handle that happening to them, and neither could he.

"Is that good or bad?"

"I don't want a house," Reid says, "but what if you helped me find an apartment, and we officially moved in together? I'd want a room I can lock for my office."

Luke looks at him for a long moment. "Reid, I promise, I'm going to keep them away from your desk in the future. Um, if you want an apartment aside from that, great. But are you sure you want me to move in? That's kind of a big step."

"You practically live here," he repeats. "The neurowing's almost done, and I've learned to accept that getting it means a likely-permanent residence in Oakhell. I'm not sure I shouldn't have considered that more fully become I signed the dotted line, but I thought that, surely, dramatic license was used in all the articles I'd read."

Sitting on the bed, Luke plays with the yo-yo and laughs, slightly. "If you're sure, then, yeah. You do know I'm going to insist on a housewarming party, and that this will mean my various family members will probably be over at all times, right?"

"I want an office with a lock," he repeats. "It may take time to get used to having your family over all the time, but as long as I have a designated space that's strictly mine, I'll try, okay?"

"Okay," Luke agrees, standing up to kiss him.

Before it gets too heated, Reid breaks away. "I have surgery in forty minutes. Can you get started on looking without me?"

"Yeah," Luke says, giving him a soft smile and cupping his cheek. "I'll come by the hospital later and see if you're free for lunch."

"Okay," Reid says, giving him a chaste kiss.

It feels as if something's missing, as if the kiss should be followed by words.

Firmly banishing the thoughts, he heads to Memorial, focusing firmly on the patient he's about to operate on.

…

After surgery, he finds Luke talking to Bob.

"Dr Oliver," Bob says as Reid sits down and reaches over for the brownies Luke brought, "Luke was telling me about your plans to find an apartment together."

"Any luck on that front?"

"Katie's enlisted herself in helping."

"Of course, she has."

"Admit it, Reid, you're grateful."

Shrugging, he breaks the last brownie in half and leaves the bigger piece for Luke. "I'm sure she can do better than either of us can."

"Well, congratulations to you both," Bob says. "You should set up a registry for the housewarming party. Or at least, I'm assuming you two are having one."

"Oh, yeah. Mister Snyder here's already made it clear that that's non-negotiable."

"Reid."

Laughing, Bob stands up, clasping Luke's shoulder. "Kim will be here shortly. Again, congratulations to you both."

After he's gone, Reid asks, "Have you told your family?"

"Yeah," Luke answers, toying with his straw. "Faith and Jade are happy for me. Everyone else- not so much."

"Does that change things?"

"Only if you want it to," Luke answers, reaching over to take his hand. "I love the thought of us doing this."

"I'm pretty excited myself."

…

That night, Luke asks, "Do you want to hear about my kidney?"

Pressing slightly against the scar, Reid nods. "Yes."

"When I was fifteen, I started realising I was gay," Luke says, voice unnaturally flat. "I didn't take it well. With that, and my parents having all these problems, I started drinking vodka. I- drank all the time. When I had to babysit, I never drank, and I'd drink tons of water and coffee or tea, just praying that nothing happened, because, I knew that I was so hung-over that I wouldn't be able to do what needed to be done if it did. But that wasn't enough to make me quit."

Reid wonders if he should interrupt, feeling a sense of dread, knowing the story's only going to get worse, and that Luke is going to shut down even more as he continues telling it.

"I once drove while drunk, and Jade- thank God, she was okay, but I did hit her, and she could have not been. That still wasn't enough. Then, my kidney failed, and my mom did things she shouldn't have done to get me a new one. In response, I drank some more and tried to cut the kidney out."

He's unable to repress the shiver those words cause, and he's furious for that when Luke, feeling it, goes rigid.

"Then- I pushed my mom while she was pregnant with Ethan," Luke says, rolling away, the sound of tears clear in his voice. Reid desperately wants to re-establish contact, he isn't sure if that won't cause an even worse reaction. "They could have died. They didn't, though, and she forgave me. And say it again, that still wasn't enough."

"I mean, for a while, it was. I was so in love with Ethan, I was determined to get things together and be the type of son and brother I wanted to be, the type my family deserved. Eventually, though, bad stuff happened, and I drank. I haven't for over two years- I don't keep an exact count, but- Do I need to leave?"

The question clues him in. Luke thought this would be a deal-breaker.

Pissed off, hating this type of emotional run-around –get close but not too close, tell only when Reid might be getting too close-, he takes a breath.

"No," he says, pulling Luke back toward him, ignoring the tense, rigid stance as his hand finds the scar. He uses the other to wipe away the tears. "You can tell me the rest when you're ready.

Of course, there's even more. Reid's always thought Luke was brave, but that word has long ago become insufficient to describe him. He wishes it weren't. As much as he respects and cares for the man lying beside him, he hates the thought of the pain he carries around and of a little kid and a confused teenager going through so much horrible stuff.

"And you better take care of that kidney. If I'm going to invest in this, in us, I want the whole enchilada. I'm not going to lose you. I've never had much use for psychology, and so, binge drinking, I don't know what you need, but figure it out. Come to me, go to your parents or friends, hell, call your ex-boyfriend if it'll help, but find or do something that makes it enough."

"You're taking this a lot better than I expected," is the quiet answer as Luke sniffles.

"You told me going in that you had a lot of baggage and that I'd have to wait to find out what all it is. Sometimes, like now, that pisses me off, but that's healthy on both our parts."

"I never planned on telling Noah about pushing Mom. I guess I knew he'd understand how serious and bad that is."

Ignoring the jibe, Reid says, "But you did."

"Noah wasn't out when we met," Luke reminds him. "He was dating Maddie."

"Hank's baby sister?"

"Henry Coleman's, yes," Luke corrects, his tone making it clear that is this why he hadn't told Reid before. Reid makes no apologies; torturing Hank is almost up there with torturing Mia.

"Anyway, after he came out, when Colonel Mayer caused all this horrible pain to us, he tried to kiss her, and he gripped her arm so hard that he left a bruise. He shouldn't have tried to kiss her, but I couldn't let him think he was some horrible person."

"What happened with you and your mom?"

"She was tricked by Damian," bad dad, Luke's biological father, Reid thinks in dread, wondering how many more horrible things the man did to his son that Reid doesn't know about, "into trying to send me to a conversion camp. She didn't know that's what it was, and I didn't know that or that Damian was behind it. We were arguing, and she reached out to calm me down. It doesn't make it better, but I wasn't trying to hurt her. I just didn't want her to touch me, and I should have just jerked away, but instead, I pushed her away, and the stairs were right there."

"Accidents happen, Luke."

"An accident is when you're not looking where you're going, and you run into someone. When you deliberately push someone- that's on you."

Reid takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

"I can't stop you from blaming yourself," he says, finally. "And I'm not going to insult either of us by saying what you did was okay, but I'm not going to hold it against you, and I hope you get to a point where you don't, either."

"Reid- what if my mom was a patient of yours?"

"I had a patient, once, who had a very bad, unprecedented reaction to some medication," he answers. "They did something that I'd normally think was unforgivable, but I know for a fact it was the medication I prescribed combined with the environment that they couldn't control. You weren't under any mind-altering medication, but emotionally, a person, especially a teenager, can only take so much from a destructive environment before they lash out. You didn't want her to touch you, which was your right. You tried to stop that, not hurt her. If your mother was my patient and I knew about this city and your family, I'd try to help you both, just like I did with that patient and the other people affected."

Luke sighs. "I- I just thought, before we moved in, I should give you some idea of how ugly the baggage I have is."

"You didn't need to tell me this to give me that idea. Once you got to multiple kidnappings and attempted murders, I was firmly clued in."

Luke makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and cough. Then, he presses back against Reid. "G'night," he mutters, his breathing quickly evening out, exhaustion from such an emotional exchange overtaking him.

"Good night, Luke," he answers, softly, as he feels the scar, warm and firm, under his hand. Closing his eyes, he lets his own breathing even out.

…

"Call it," he says, unhappily, looking down at the woman.

A motorcyclist hit her while she was walking down the street, and she'd have suffered minimal damage if not for the fact her head had hit the ground with such force. She might have made it if they'd gotten her to the hospital quicker, but none of that changes the fact this is his table, and a patient just died on it.

Going over to strip off his gloves and wash his hands, he remembers he and Luke are supposed to have their housewarming party tonight.

Yeah, I can't deal with that, he realises.

Leaving the room, he goes to call Luke.

"Hey," Luke answers, "listen-"

"I just lost a patient," he interrupts. "And I need some time alone. I'll- be home whenever."

"I'm so sorry, Reid," Luke says. "Is there- what can I do? Are you okay?"

"Just, deal with everyone and make sure they're gone by tonight. I- just need some time, that's all. Otherwise, I'm fine. Okay, I'll see you, later."

"Yeah, of course. Reid, call me if you need something, okay?"

"I will."

He hangs up and goes to find Bob.

"Dr Oliver," Bob starts, standing up.

"Jane Doe was called."

"Oh." Coming over, Bob gives him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Reid. I know you did everything you could. I'll help Luke call off the party. Do you want to sign out early?"

"No. I'm fine."

"If you change your mind, if you decide to take a day or two, you can."

"Thanks, Bob."

He finishes his rounds, thankfully without making any nurses cry, and goes to Yo's.

…

"How many have you had?"

Reid looks up from his medical journal. "No, I don't want any company."

"Too bad," Bob responds, placidly.

"I had two or three glasses of Scotch, about," he looks at his watch, "two hours ago."

Bob picks up his glass and holds it under his nose. "Soda with extra sugar," he guesses.

"Obesity, diabetes, and all the other things so many people are afraid of have always struck me as pointless," he answers, taking his soda back. "I've dealt with plenty of health nuts who would have been better off they'd indulged in a few elaborate sandwiches or that sugary cake at their sister's wedding. Food is a necessity and often a luxury; you can be terrified of what you put in your body and still end up with an aneurysm, or you can live life so that if you get an aneurysm you don't have so many regrets."

"I agree," Bob says, quietly. "I do think healthy diets should be encouraged, but I agree."

"What are you doing here, Bob?"

"Interestingly enough, I'm here to make sure you stick to your convictions."

"I'm not drunk, so that must mean you're to blame for not making any sense."

"I'd only been a full doctor for a few years when the gay rights movement started gaining momentum," Bob says.

"Oh, really? We're having not a conversation about me being gay and your feelings about the relationship between me and Luke. No, Bob."

His wrist is grabbed.

"Bob-"

"You're going to hear me out," Bob says, firmly.

"Fine," he says, defeated. There was time when he wouldn't have stood for this, he's sure. He wishes he could remember what that was like.

"Now, I grew up in a prejudicial time, I admit, but my mother and father, especially my mother, always raised me to treat people with respect. Moreover, as a doctor, I've never cared about anything but helping my patients. Colour, marital status, criminal or deacon, all of that only mattered if it had something to do with what I needed to do to help them get better."

Bob sighs. "When he was a child, my son, Tom, loved dolls. Well, as long as they weren't 'daddy' dolls," he adds, somewhat sadly. "I never thought anything of it until I read this literature about that being a potential sign of homosexuality. Along with all the problems between Lisa and me, with him caught in the middle, it seemed even more likely. The honest truth is, I didn't like it, and the thought scared me."

"I can understand close male friendships, of course. I can understand two bachelors sharing their live together until they find a good woman. However, for a long time, I couldn't understand why a man wouldn't want to know a woman in such a way. Why he wouldn't want to eventually get married and have children."

"You still think that way, Bob," he points out.

"Not exactly," Bob answers. "Now, I can't understand why a person wouldn't want to find someone, whether a lover, a spouse, or friends, they can make their life with. Call me a sentimental old fool if you will, but I freely admit to watching families and couples and gaining happiness from seeing theirs."

"Well, unless your family is even more screwed up than I thought, your oldest son isn't gay."

"No, he isn't," Bob says. "I didn't do anything. I didn't talk to anyone I knew. However, I thought on it constantly, and eventually, I decided that I needed to know more. I went to some rallies and met with some gay leaders. I talked to people in attendance."

"You risked your career."

"I was naïve and didn't think of it in those terms, but yes, I did. All I was thinking about was my little boy. So, I did that, and I concluded that the problem with homosexuals was that they were people who had the whole damn world unfairly against them, and it's not right anyone should have to deal with that. I still didn't understand, and I was still scared for my son. But if he grew up to be a good man and another man, a good one, made him happy, I was going to do whatever I had to in order to protect him and let him keep that happiness."

"Then, for every other child and grandchild that came into my life, I knew there was a chance they might end up homosexual. However, I knew they might end up many things. So, worrying about that one particular thing was pointless."

"You're a very tolerant human being, ahead of your time in many ways," Reid says, exasperated. "You're not telling me anything I haven't known for a long time."

"You lost a patient today, and believe me when I say I understand how that temporarily destroys your world. It can't be helped. But don't let that stop you from what you were planning."

"I'll bite: What was I planning?"

"You were going to tell Luke you love him," Bob answers, signalling for another drink. "You were going to go to your housewarming party, argue with Jade and Faith, indulge Natalie and Ethan, try and probably fail not to insult Holden and Lily, and then, when everyone was gone, you had some plan on how to tell him."

"How in the hell did you-"

Shut up, Oliver, he tells himself.

Too late, he realises.

"You think I've never seen a man in love, Dr Oliver? Do honestly believe you're so different from all men about to propose, all the women about to tell a man or their family they're having a baby, and all the people who've finally decided, to hell with everything, I love this person too much to not tell them that I've seen over the years?"

"I'm not- There's no proof that- Yes! I'm not like other people, Bob. Just because you're good at reading most people doesn't mean-"

"Yes, you are. You have been for longer than you're even willing to admit, and you have no idea how much proof there is, Dr Oliver."

"Look, Bob-"

"A little over year before you first came here, a patient came to me. He'd gone on a business trip, met a man in a cowboy bar, and had a one-night stand. Protection was used, but we agreed it was best he be fully screened for STDs."

Great, now, he gets to go over every exchange he and Bob have ever had in his head. "Does Luke know you're talking to me about this?"

"I never said it was Luke."

"That's a technicality and you know it, Dr Hughes," he snaps, angry.

"Luke's already told me to grant him access to his file if you ever requested it."

He wishes he didn't know that, either. He doesn't play emotional games when it comes to sex and relationships, and he's never tolerated people who did. He has a feeling that was another one of Luke's.

"You're not helping, Bob. Quite the opposite in fact."

"When you and Luke started dating, I asked him if you were the man from Texas. He said you were. That gave me pause, but then, I remembered the day Kim had Katie give you that interview. Luke came into my office, and I saw how affected you were. My grandson, Casey, would say that you're whipped. You're so in love you'd do anything for him, and if you think you've been hiding that fact, you truly are an idiot, Reid."

"Yeah, that's the general consensus I've come to," he agrees.

"Life's very short sometimes," Bob says, withdrawing his wallet. "I've loved several women, and I've been scared to death each time I first told them. But in the end, I was always glad I did. You will be, too. Go home."

…

Out in his car, he sighs and dial's Doogie's number.

When he first moved to Oakdale, Chris sent him an email, expressing unhappiness and heavily implied threats.

"Reid?" Chris's voice is heavy with sleep. "Is something wrong?"

"It's three in the morning over there," Reid says, surprised. "I was going to leave a voicemail. Why do you have your cell phone on at this hour?"

"S-special ringtones," Chris answers, loudly yawning. "I sleep through it unless it's a ringtone I recognise. What in the hell are you doing calling me, Oliver?"

He sighs. "I lost a patient today. Your dad helped me. Don't worry, you never came up. But, Christopher, I need to tell you that your father loves you, and he'd still love you just as deeply if he knew how truly screwed up you really are. It's something to think about. Go back to sleep, now."

…

Luke's asleep on the couch, the lights on and the TV playing some black-and-white rerun. He's clutching Reid's pillow against his chest.

Smiling slightly, Reid turns off the TV and gently extracts the pillow, tapping Luke's cheek. "Come on, Snyder. You're a big boy, now, and big boys sleep in bed with the lights off."

"Reid," Luke mutters, giving him a sleepy, sympathetic smile. "A- a- are you okay?"

"Yeah," he answers, kissing him. "I'm fine. Let's go to bed."

After getting Luke in bed and turning off the living room lights, he changes and slips into bed, unsurprised to find Luke still half-awake. Curling around him, hand going to the scar, Reid asks, "Can you take the day off tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure," Luke answers, as he jerks slightly to keep himself awake. "Why?"

"I'm taking tomorrow off. We can spend it together."

"Okay," Luke agrees, giving in to the sleep.

…

After breakfast, they go to the park and set up their chessboard, a gift from Lucinda.

"No, don't make that move," he says, seeing Luke's about to give him the game in three moves. "We need to talk."

"I kind of figured that when you took the day off," Luke answers, looking up from the board and giving him a cautious look.

"I'm done waiting. Whatever you think you need to tell me, you need to decide if you're willing to or not."

For a long moment, Luke's quiet, but then, he says, softly, "Fair enough."

Continuing, he looks up, "When I was fifteen, before the drinking, my dad was sleeping with this woman. I was so angry that I trashed her apartment. Then, when my mom tried to cover for me, the woman ended up dead. It wasn't either of our faults, but my mom had left a pair of gloves at the apartment. I broke back in and burnt them."

Making another move on the board, Luke asks, "Have you ever wondered why I don't have a college diploma?"

"I assumed you'd dropped out."

"What would your opinion be on that?"

He shrugs. "I don't see any shame in it. College is for certain people and not for others. A degree proves you could pass tests or that you otherwise had the ability to get a passing grade. You do more than some people with degrees and diplomas do."

"Yeah, well, I didn't drop out. I was kicked out, and I got Casey kicked out, too."

"Isn't he currently in law school?"

"He managed to get a second chance. Grandmother tried to get me re-enrolled, but I decided I didn't want to go back."

"What did you do to get kicked out?"

"Remember Kevin, the best friend I was in love in high school?"

"The one whose campaign manager hurt Nurse Stewart and killed your friend, Reg?"

"Uh-huh," Luke says, making a face when Reid redirects his hand from picking up one of the pieces. "I was running against Kevin for president. I- couldn't stand to lose. Now, I see how stupid I was being, but at the time, I felt like I had to win. Casey helped me stuff the ballots."

"You're telling me you occasionally have impulse control problems and are willing to do fight dirty. Yeah, that just changes my whole picture of you in my head."

"Reid."

Shrugging, he says, "You bribe me with food and sex, you effectively play double-agent in the battle between Faith and your parents, you helped your boyfriend marry a woman so that she could stay in the country, and you're not above using your money and influence to help people and to speed things along. If anything happened to your siblings, I know I wouldn't be able to stop you from doing what you felt the need to do."

"And that doesn't bother you? Worry you?"

"It concerns me. Just like the fact I've broken rules and laws as a doctor concerns you. I'm going to keep doing what I feel is best for my patients, and if I get caught one day for something I did, I'll deal with it. It's the same with your loved ones."

"Reid, why do you want to know all this, now? What's changed?"

"Losing that patient and a talk with Bob put things into perspective."

"I kissed Brian."

Wincing as the piece he dropped hits the table, he looks up. "Come again? Your grandmother's ex-husband?"

Luke gives him a look he can't decipher, which does nothing to help the jumble of feelings knocking around inside of him.

"He's gay, and he was in denial when he married her. He kissed me, and then, he refused to admit he'd done it. Noah and I were having problems, and I couldn't tell my incredibly sick grandmother the man she was in love with, her husband, had done that. The worst thing is that some part of me liked it. He's a handsome, smart man, and he seemed to want me more than Noah did."

"In the end, it all came out. Noah and I had gotten back together, but he was spending a lot of time with Maddie, and I still didn't know what to do about the fact my grandmother was unknowingly married to a gay man, and I was, surprise, surprise, drinking. I kissed him on a bench in Old Town. Noah came across us, and he thought Brian was taking advantage of me. From there, everything started coming out, almost faster than I knew what was happening."

Until now, Reid's never truly been angry at Alexander for anything or regretted treating a patient civilly.

"And that's everything. I think I might have stolen a book from the school library when I was in high school, but if that's where the deal-breaker comes in, I'm going to leave you alone with Faith on the farm."

"Why do you assume there's a deal-breaker?"

"Reid, come on," Luke says, looking up. "There's always a deal-breaker. Some couples are just lucky enough to never come across theirs."

"You know, that's sounds like something I would have said before all this happened."

"Aw, and now look at you, all sunshine and roses," Luke teases as he makes a move.

"Yeah, it'd be funny, except, what in the hell happened to guy? Before I walked into that cowboy bar, I knew exactly who I was, what I wanted, and what I was capable of."

"It's okay to be confused about your feelings," Luke offers, giving him a small smile.

"I'm not."

"Well, feel free to share at any point," Luke says, and Reid can hear the subtle fear and resignation in his tone.

Reaching over, Reid kisses him. When he pulls away, he waits until Luke's eyes meet his. "I love you. There, I said it." He moves a piece on the board. "Checkmate."

Starting to pack up, he asks, "Want to get some ice-cream?"

Luke blinks, and then, grabs his wrist. "Wait. Aren't you going to ask? If I feel the same?"

"Either you do, or you don't. If you do, you'll tell me when you're ready. If you don't, hopefully, I'll eventually get a clue, or someone will do me a favour and shoot me."

Luke stands up and walks over, keeping a hold of his wrist. He leans down and kisses Reid, and Reid can somehow feel that this kiss is a game-changer.

When it brings, Luke says, breathless, "Please, don't hurt me. I told myself when we got involved to be careful, because this guy could hurt me. He might end up breaking my heart. I almost didn't take a chance."

"I'm glad you did."

"So am I," Luke says, fingers going to the back of his neck. "I love you, and I should have told you a long time ago, but I was afraid. So, please, Reid, just don't hurt me."

Reaching up with his free hand, he wraps his hand around Luke's wrist. "I'll try not to."

He expected adrenaline, his pulse racing, his heart beating faster than normal, his stomach to react, but sitting here, Luke in front of him, knowing Luke loves him, he feels an unexpected calmness, different from the type he feels when he performs surgery. Everything inexplicably feels right, and his simple happiness is without fear or doubt.

…

It's the middle of the night, and Luke's cell phone is ringing.

Reid blinks as Luke sits up, reaching for it. "H'llo?"

"Uh," Luke says, and Reid wonders if he should fully wake up or slip back into sleep. "I'm- Who's- Mia?"

Reid shoots up and grabs the phone. "Who is this?"

"Dr Oliver!" Mia's panicked voice greets him, and fear floods him. "It's Jason- I'm sorry- His number was on the website, and I didn't know how else to- I'm sorry, and I-"

"Alright," he interrupts, starting to get dressed, "shut up, take a deep breath, and then, tell me what's going."

"Reid," Luke says quietly, as he hears Mia taking gulping breaths.

"I was carrying Jason inside, and I tripped. I- I- I couldn't hold onto him, and his head hit the curb, and the doctors here are just arguing and- please, help him. I'm sorry I called your boyfriend, but you didn't answer your cell phone, and I didn't know how else-"

"Dolly, that's the least of my concerns," he says, grabbing his keys. "What about you and your parents?"

"They're fine. I hurt my ankle and leg, but it's Jason who needs help."

"Okay, I'm going to be there as soon as I can. This is what I want you to do…"

Once he's finished his instructions, he's at the car, kit in hand, and Luke is standing in front of the driver's seat. "Reid-"

"I need to get to Dallas."

"Okay," Luke agrees. "I've already go the jet waiting; it's the fastest way there, and I'll call Bob while we're on it. Let me drive, and call whoever else you need to talk to."

Giving him a quick kiss, Reid complies.

…

At the hospital, one of the worst in the city, they find Mia sitting on a curb in the parking lot, shaking. Even in the dusky morning light, he can tell how badly swollen her ankle is and how bruised her leg is. Kneeling down, he says, as he gets his coat on her, "Hey, Miss Thai-American. I know you want to help Jason. I need you to come inside with me and Luke; we're going to find your parents, and I'm going to terrorise whoever I need to in order to get the best help for him."

"Thank you, Dr Ja- Oliver."

As he and Luke help her stand, he tells her, "Don't. Luke knows how much of an ass I can be. And just because I'm helping your brother doesn't mean I'm not going to try to find out your new weakness and use them against you."

"Um, hi," Luke says as they lead her hopping inside. "I'm Luke Snyder."

"Mia Jainukul," she says. "The kids at school call me Mia J. I'm sorry for getting your number off the foundation website and calling you."

"Oh, it's no problem," Luke quickly assures her.

"Here," Reid says, "take her to the chairs, help her prop her leg up, and then, get her something from the vending machine, make sure it doesn't have chocolate in it, and some water."

"Okay," Luke agrees, taking on Mia's full weight, "good luck."

…

The Jainukul's are bewildered to see him but acquiesce to his orders easily enough.

Thanks to Luke and Bob, he's prepped for surgery and standing in the operating room in record time.

Unfortunately, Jason, barely three, is terrified, and stubbornly fighting the anaesthesia.

"Hey, Jason," he says, carefully touching Jason's small hand with his finger. "I'm a friend of your sister, Mia. She can't have chocolate, and she has with a brown and green teddy bear named Mister Boo Riley."

"Friend," Jason garbles, relaxing some.

"Yeah, that's right. Listen, I know you're scared and feel hurt, but I'm going to help you. I need you to go to sleep for a while, and when you wake up, you'll feel better, and you can see Mia and your mommy and daddy."

There's some unintelligible garbing, but Jason relaxes some more.

Quietly, Reid sings, recalling the words to some boy band Mia used to be obsessed with when she was younger.

"He's under, Doctor."

…

When he gets out, he finds Luke talking to the Jainukuls as Mia, stretched across several chairs, sleeps with her head in his lap.

"Doctor Oliver," Mrs Jainukul says, and he watches in amusement and sympathy as Mia jolts up, almost falling if not for Luke's quick reflexes.

"Hey," he says to Luke, "take her somewhere else, okay? I'll find you."

"Jason-"

"He should be fine," he tells her, helping her stand. "He's recovering from surgery. It's going to take time for him to completely heal, but eventually, he should be just fine. Now, go with Luke."

She gives him a suspicious look but allows Luke to coax her into leaving.

Once they're both out of earshot, he looks at Mrs Jainukul and demands, "Why didn't you page me? You have my beeper number. Why did it take your teenage daughter calling a man she's never met to get the help you need for your son? What in the hell is wrong with you?"

"Don't you dare speak to my wife-"

"Your son could have died, and you and your wife didn't do what was needed to help prevent that," he snaps. "I'll speak to her and you however I damn well please."

Mrs Jainukul starts crying, loudly, and Reid hopes neither Luke nor Mia suddenly reappear.

"Doctor Oliver," she says, once her husband has calmed her down, "you can't have expected me to page you in the middle of the night while you're a state away."

"Obviously, I can," he retorts. "I don't give my beeper number out to anyone. I gave it to you in case you needed me. You put your politeness or something in front your kid's life. If you have a brain surgeon in your corner, use him."

"I'm giving it to Mia, which, apparently, I should have done in the first place," he continues. "Don't punish her for calling Luke, and don't ever try to stop her from using it. I can be a lot meaner than this, trust me."

He starts to walk away but stops when Mrs Jainukul says, "Thank you for helping Jason, Doctor."

"Yeah, well," he says, turning back around, "he's probably going to be the one who takes over the restaurant one day, and I might end up moving back at some point."

Mr Jainukul looks at him in anger and puzzlement as his wife fiercely hugs Reid. Awkwardly patting her, Reid doesn't bother saying anything.

…

He finds Luke and Mia in the cafeteria, and he's stopped short.

Luke got a call from a panicked voice in the middle of the night, and while Reid was ignoring him, he got dressed, used Reid's phone to get things ready, and flew out of state without complaint. Although he's sure Luke has gotten explanations by now, Reid hadn't even explained who the Jainukuls are or why he was hell-bent on helping them.

Most people, Reid's sure, wouldn't have accepted such things with so much trust and lack of annoyance.

Now, Luke is drinking coffee as he urges Mia to eat a plate of eggs with ketchup and drink her juice.

Why is this a surprise, some part of him inquires. You've always known how devoted Luke is to helping people, especially kids and the ones he loves.

As if feeling his eyes, Mia turns, causing Luke's eyes to follow her. "What didn't you want to tell me about Jason," she demands.

"Nothing," he says, taking note of her shaking leg, extended as she props her foot on a chair across from her. "I yelled at your parents, and I didn't want you to hear. Let's get your leg and ankle taken care of."

Luke starts to stand, and he says, "You can't be in the room."

"I can help you get her to the room, though," Luke answers, yawning.

…

Once they're alone, Reid carefully examines the foot and leg. "What happened?"

"I was wearing heels," she answers, miserably, as he opens his kit and prepares a syringe. "And I still haven't learned to walk properly in them, but I've never fallen. The door was only- I didn't think I'd hurt him."

"Accidents happen, Dolly," he says, giving her the shot. "So, you lost your balance?"

"I guess so," she answers, as he starts to wipe down her foot. "I should have used the driveway, but I started to step over the curb and go through the yard, and I don't know if I lost my balance on my other foot or if I hit the curb wrong with this one."

Getting a glass of water, he gives her two pills. "Take these."

Once she does, he sits down. "Mia, you need to be strong for Jason. The world is dangerous place. The truth is, people get hurt and sometimes die much too young. And there's usually something that could have been done to prevent it, but people can't spend all their lives trying to foresee every possibility and trying to decide which one would be safest. No one would live if people did that."

"What he needs right now is for his big sister to be the same one he's always known. So, give him a fortune cookie, let him sleep with your teddy bear, and help him get better. The next time he needs you to carry him, pick him up and do it. He's too young to worry about what could have happened."

"Okay," she agrees, wiping her eyes.

"Now," he says, "do you have your cell phone?"

When she withdraws it, he takes it. "I'm going to put my beeper and email address in here. If you ever lose the former, contact me as soon as possible."

Once he does, he hands it back and stands up. "When Jason's hold enough, give it to him and make sure he understands not to use it unless it's a genuine emergency. If something ever happens, even after you've left home, page me. I promise, if I possibly can, I'll be there. Make sure he and your parents understand that the same goes for them."

"Are you going to marry Luke?"

"I don't believe in marriage."

"Because you're a jackass?"

"Sometimes, relationships work," he tells her. "If they do, they do. But sometimes, they don't, and making all the vows and promises in the world won't change that."

"I guess so," she agrees. "But don't married couples get some helpful benefits? Isn't it easier to buy a car if you're married?"

"I don't know," he answers, amused. "Your ankle isn't broken, but it'll be best if you stay off it as much as possible for a week or two and use crutches when you can't. For the first few days, take some Ibuprofen after breakfast and before you go to bed. Take more if you need it during the day, but be careful. Don't take it unless the pain is bad. Call me if something's wrong. I'm going to refer Jason to a doctor I know here, and she'll call me if I need to come back and help with him. And above all, don't wear heels until everything's better."

She sticks her tongue out, and then, asks, "Where do I get crutches?"

…

"No coffee," Reid orders once he and Luke get back home. Luke obediently starts to make tea instead. "I'll fix breakfast. You need to take your anti-rejection meds after you eat and get some more sleep."

"I'm fine," Luke insists.

"And I want to keep you that way," he answers, as he starts the eggs and pancakes. "Thank you. For doing all this. I know you must have been confused through most of it."

"I was until we got to the hospital. When you were in surgery, the- I'm just going to say family, explained things. I tried to get Mia to let a doctor look at leg, but she insisted on waiting for you."

"I didn't even stop to think about that."

"Yeah, well, you were busy helping her little brother," Luke says, smiling at him. "Being a big hero."

"I'm always a big hero."

"And so modest and humble, too."

Shrugging, Reid fixes a plate and hands it to him. "Jason's going to make a full recovery because of me."

"Yeah," Luke agrees, softly, giving Reid the look that never falls to momentarily throw him. "I love you, Reid."

"I love you, too."

…

Once Luke is asleep, Reid kisses him and heads to Memorial, going to Bob's office.

"Care to explain, Dr Oliver," Bob inquires, yawning.

"Not really, but I know I need to," he answers, sitting down. "You might need to prepare yourself and the hospital, Bob. There could be a lot of questions about exactly what kind of man I am very soon."

"I don't understand. You helped a toddler who'd split his head open. From what I understand, the little boy's expected to make a full recovery."

"This- isn't about that," he says, wishing he were anywhere else. "Look, in Dallas, there was a Chinese restaurant near my place. One day, my order hadn't come after thirty minutes, and I went down there. The problem was they were short-staffed, and Mrs Jainukul, one of the owners, was dealing with her two-year-old kid. The kid, Mia, was screaming the house down to the point the place was almost abandoned. She couldn't be calmed no matter what her mom did. It turned out she had a severe ear infection, and I gave her a mild sedative and wrote a prescription."

He remembers going back the next day. He'd eaten a cookie Mia thought was hers, angering her. He hadn't been sympathetic. Thus, their battle of insults and sarcasm had begun.

"Over the years, Mia and I became- friends, I guess you could say, although, I maintain that I just liked torturing her. I sometimes babysat in exchange for free food, and when she got a little older, she sometimes distracted me when I was having trouble with a patient. She had a toothbrush and toothpaste in my apartment, and after her brother was first born, she'd occasionally crash on the couch. Once or twice, I drove her to school."

Bitterly, he adds, "And I know how all that would look to some people, a young, single, white doctor spending all this time with a little Asian girl. But you should know me well enough to know better."

"Naturally," Bob answers. "However, I'm curious why you suddenly think your friendship with her is going to become a problem, now."

"In Dallas, no one knew. When I went to the hospital this morning, I yelled at her parents. And in the operating room, when I was talking to Jason, I said some things that, without proper context, would support the above interpretation."

"What did you say?"

"I told Jason I was a friend of his sister's and told him about her allergy to chocolate and described her favourite teddy bear. Then," he mutters, not particularly wanting Bob to know this part, "I sang a song from some boy band Mia used to listen to all the time. It got him to go with the anaesthesia."

"Was your yelling at her parents any different from when you've yelled at various people?"

"In a way," he answers. "I was pissed that Mrs Jainukul didn't page me. I made it clear that if they ever needed something, someone in the family had better."

"If this becomes a problem, we'll deal with it," Bob promises. "I'm glad you weren't completely alone in Dallas."

"I just liked torturing her. That's all."

Bob gives him a look.

"Outside of this office, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it."

"How's Luke?"

"Fine. I got him to call in and take the time to get proper sleep."

The phone rings, and Bob waves him away.

…

A week later, Reid finishes a surgery and finds Katie in the waiting room.

"Hey," he says, sitting down. "How are you and the parasite doing?"

"My son and I are doing good," she informs him, resting a hand on her swollen stomach. "The surgery went well?"

"Of course," he answers. "So, the parasite is male. Did you come here to find that out?"

"I came here to find out the sex of my baby, yes," she answers, shaking her head at him. "And you don't get to pretend like you don't already love this baby. After all those weird sandwiches I still can't believe I've eaten, that you've made for me-"

"It means nothing," he assures her. "I just know there'd be no justice for me if you killed me in a fit of hormonal rage."

"And yet, you still insult me and my baby."

"Calling someone what they are isn't an insult. Until that kid is out, he's a parasite; medical knowledge backs me on that. And it's easier to make you too fat to walk than it is to try that whole being nice thing."

"Well, anyway, would you like to have dinner with Brad and me?"

"No can do," he answers. "I have a meeting with Bob. I'd better get to that."

Standing up, he blows her a kiss, smiling when she grins at him.

…

After he's sat down, Bob tells him, "I'm going to be retiring soon, and I need to get serious about deciding who will succeed me as chief of staff."

"Okay," he says, not sure what this has to do with him. The new chief of staff will probably hate him, but with the neuro wing, he's more-or-less unfireable at the moment.

"You and I both hate hospital politics, but you've seen how I've handled them and used them to my advantage. I'd like to recommend you as my first pick. Of course, the board makes the final decision, but my recommendation should carry some weight."

He doesn't know what to say. "I'm- flattered."

"Really," Bob asks in surprise. "No comments about how I run the hospital like its 1970?"

"1960, actually," he corrects. Then, leaning back, he says, "But I mean that in a good way. You're a damn good doctor, Bob. More than that, people like you. You're nice to them, and they actually do what you ask them to do without you threatening their children or kicking their pets. I-I'm not nice."

"I've noticed."

"All that- it's a mystery to me. I could never be you."

"I don't want you to be me," Bob answers. "I want you to take this position and work on your people skills. And be a better you."

He doesn't know what Luke's opinion on the chief of staff position would be, but otherwise, Luke wants the same thing. They have an uneasy détente when it comes to people he doesn't like or doesn't feel the need to try to be civil to. It doesn't always hold, there's anger on both sides, and eventually, once the anger's gone, they move on, never resolving anything.

He knows Luke might eventually become fed up, decide he deserves better, and leave. And Luke would be fine; almost everyone in town loves him, and he wouldn't have any trouble finding someone when he got ready to move on.

Reid, on the other hand, is the cold, heartless one, and who would believe Luke could ever hurt him?

Now isn't the time to angst over your relationship, Oliver, he tells himself, leading his thoughts back to Bob's offer.

"I'll talk to Luke about it and get back to you," he says.

"Good," Bob says. "That's all I wanted to talk to you about."

They shake hands, and Reid leaves.

…

"Get out," Luke says, later. "Bob wants you to replace him?"

"Once I've developed my people skills. In a decade or two."

Luke laughs. "Are you considering it?"

"Yeah," he answers. "Think you can squeeze in the time to help me?"

"With what?"

"Become a person."

"Twist my arm," Luke answers, grinning as he reaches over to kiss him.

…

Later, when they're in bed, Luke places his hand on the hand on his scar. "Reid, tell me if I'm imagining things, but is there something besides you hoping to make hospital politics more manageable behind this?"

"Well, the pay raise and better parking spot won't hurt."

"I'm being serious," Luke says. "It's- I could be wrong, but I got the feeling there might be something else."

A large part of Reid is tempted to tell Luke he's imagining things, but he made a promise to always be honest.

He sighs and tries to move his hand, but apparently, Luke's astuteness is especially honed tonight, as he presses against the hand, making it clear he won't move his.

"The thing is," he says, "is I usually think of myself in terms of 'doctor', not 'man'. When I do think in terms of 'man', I think- I'm decent enough. I'm not friendly, I'm not good," he feels Luke shift, "but like most boys, I had some idea in my head of what a man should be, and I've always lived up to that. I didn't need to be a good man. And when it comes to 'person'- I've never cared. As long as I was a good doctor and didn't disappoint myself as a man, that's all I thought mattered."

"But then," he continues, "I fell in love with you. You and Bob are the best men I've ever known, and part of me wants to be everything you deserve and make him proud of me and the other part of me wants to know if I could be a good man, a good person, too. It scares the hell out me, but it turns out, there is more than to life than medicine, and I want to truly find out what all that is. Join the human race, I suppose you could say."

Luke turns slightly, reaching over to touch Reid's face. "Reid, you already are a good man and person, believe me. You just don't know it. And I don't have any objections to you doing this, but don't do it because you think you don't deserve me. I'm the lucky one."

"Your insecurity brought on by this town and your family is responsible for that thought."

"No," Luke says, firmly. "I mean, yes, I sometimes have self-esteem issues, and yes, that's probably due to all the craziness I've dealt with in my life-"

"Probably?"

"But that's not why I said that. When Noah and I broke up for good, I honestly thought I'd never find anyone else. Sex, dating, I could do all that, but I didn't think I'd ever fall in love with anyone else. And when I started to fall in love with you, yes, I was insecure. I didn't think I had a chance of you feeling the same. But you did, and I love someone who loves me. I have a life with the man I love, partly because you were willing to be patient and give me the time I needed."

Reid feels he should say something, but Luke continues, "You worry about me and want me to be happy, and you save lives, and you'd do anything for a little girl in Dallas. You're a good man, and all I want is for you to believe that and be happy."

"I am happy," he says, leaning over to kiss Luke. "I do think this could make me happier, though."

"Then, I'll be glad to help you," Luke agrees. Shifting so that Reid can slide his hand back over the scar, he says, "I love you, Reid."

"I love you, too."

Then, Dr Reid Oliver falls asleep, next to the man he loves, happy.


End file.
